Shadows of an Enigma
by i.sit.in.shadows
Summary: When a strange girl shows up on the Institute’s doorstep, what’s perceived as a desperate mistake might’ve actually been fate in disguise. But can Zak handle what comes with being an X-Man? Or will her dark past come back to haunt her? Full summary inside
1. Chapter 1

When a strange girl winds up on the Institute's doorstep, what was perceived as a desperate mistake might've just been fate in disguise. Now a member of the X-Men, the girl, known only by her alias, Zak, knows she's in for the ride of her life. Facing magnetic foes, battling against impossible odds… She's convinced she can handle it. With a lifetime on the streets behind her... she's learned to trust no one. But when her dark past comes back to haunt her and secrets get out of control, Zak comes to realise that at some point, she'll need someone to count on...

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING… except the plot, main character, a few other characters (as of yet, unmentioned), and stuff you never heard of.

If you notice that some comicbook facts are wrong, please cut me some slack, I have a terrible memory. Plus, my storey really only includes the basic facts of the X-Men and their backgrounds. I might add some extra facts into their pasts and alter some of the events that took place in the comics. Also, some of their ages may be different than they truly are. I.E.: Nightcrawler is, like, 18 or 19. Just my own little way of personalising the fic. I may or may not post ages later just to give you an idea.

Zak: 16

Nightcrawler: 19

Cyclops: 20

Piotr: 21

Jamie: 14

Jean: 19

Most Others: 18-22

Let the storey BEGIN! *lazily throws arm in the air mock-dramatically*

Chapter One: Fate Goes BOOM

NEW YORK. TODAY

Tuesday, 8:14 am - Up-State New York

I wandered along the streets of the more seedy part of Westchester. I had to admit, trekking in my black combat boots, I couldn't exactly be called 'light on my feet', which earned me the attention of at least every questionable-looking fellow I passed. A few times I'd had to... 'persuade' a few of them to back off, but my methods were understandable; some creeps just don't know what it means to respect personal space.

Fending off most of the wind with the collar of my jacket pulled up, it was also of reasonable understanding that my hands would be crammed in its pockets to avoid the brisk chill. Right?

Just what I'd tried to tell the merchant.

"I know it was you! We have security camera that says you do the crime of thievery!" The shopkeeper shouted eagerly in my face. His foreign accent was strong and thick in his choice of sentence structure.

I sighed in exasperation, "Look, mister," I removed my hands from my pockets and waved them around, "I didn't take anything I hadn't paid for. And you can give up the whole 'proof' rap. I happen to know for a fact that all those cameras are good for is decoration."

Now, that wasn't _exactly_ true. I'd had a hunch that the video recorders were bogus, but it was a special hunch. One of my few good talents that make me what I am - a mutant. And a good one at that, might I admit modestly. One of my powers includes a certain level of plausible perception - I could, to an extent, _sense_ the state of any event, object, or situation that floated along on the lil' sailboat of life. A curse or a blessing. Depends on how you live.

The Indian man was now fuming, a slight hint of embarrassment playing about his craggy features. He jutted out a hand to grab my arm, wrenching me along with him as he stormed off back to his small corner shop. Believe me, it took a LOT of my own will power to keep from breaking the guy's neck. But, hey, that's just me. A nasty-looking place, really - his shop. Although quite a few lovely birds found it charming enough as their designated 'rest stop', if you catch my drift.

Anyway, I tolerated the shopkeeper's yanking until he set me down (rather roughly) on an old desk chair with its paint peeling and distinct, stale-smoke odour. He picked up an equally old landline and dialled in the one specific three-digit number that I had learned to avoid the use of at any cost.

Before I could react, however, a second man - this one without the foreignness - stalked into the shop through the smudged doubledoors calling out, "Hey, Masseud, you havin' some kinda prob'em over here?" the New York accent asked suggestively. All greasy blonde hair and large teeth stained grey with nicotine, the guy was a regular 'Yorker. Even down to his stained button-up shirt, cargoes, and Nikes.

"This girl, she will not admit to being a thief," Masseud responded with a sputter of disgust.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, _DUH._ I didn't take anything."

"Then you's won't mind if we just take a look-see in yer pack?" Actually, I did. But the New Yorker dug through my brown backpack anyway, only to be disappointed when all he found was a thicker jacket, four bottles of water, a bag of unperishables with a drawstring, a water-proof case containing a few of my valuables, and various articles of my extra clothing. He pulled the food bag out and began emptying its contents onto the register desk.

"Everything in there is on my receipt--" I froze up abruptly. Little red flags going up all around my subconscience, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. All tell-tale signs that my 'perception' was clueing me in to something fishy. I eyed the New Yorker keenly...

_He's packing... and he's gonna flash it soon._

Now there's an incident anyone would want to avoid. _Everyone_ hates guns. Especially when it's intended for you. And what I did next, well, honestly, wouldn't you've done the same?

I looked down at my hands and concentrated. Immediately, an invisible layer around them began to glow the same colour as my eyes - a weird, bright aqua-blue. I thrust them outward and turned my concentration to the two men who'd just noticed my actions. After an instant, aqua-blue neon flashes sizzled around them simultaneously.

The lightbulbs hanging above popped, the cash register's automatic calculator exploded, and about a dozen watches on display cracked under pressure, along with the ones the men were wearing, and quite a few other random metal objects lying around the front of the shop.

Both men shouted - Masseud doubled over and covered his head as if he were about to be crushed by something, the New Yorker jumped back and cried out in surprise as the gun tucked in the back of his waistband heated up, popped, and fell to pieces.

This is what happened whenever I tested my strange powers - random things (all of which seem to involve metal of some form) around my intended target began wigging out. And while I didn't know exactly _what_ this power of mine was - or what it even _did_ besides dazzle my opponent with pretty lights, I had figured out a certain plan of action that applied to the situation each time I used them.

Concentrate immensely... or get fried from the feedback and black out.

And right now, that was becoming increasingly difficult, considering at least three cop cars had just pulled up outside the shop. I, and my super-duper premonition-thingy making me sense they were about to send in two rookies, dropped my concentration and quickly loaded my things back into my backpack. I unconsciously sensed that there was a back door and that it was already unlocked, and headed for it.

I was outside in the back alley before the police even made it to the store's entrance, weaving and swerving around spilled-over garbage bags and Dumpsters that must've reached their capacity weeks ago. I exited the alley and began my walk down the street, only to quicken my pace when I heard more cop cars coming my way, sirens blaring.

_Jeez, Zak. What've ya done this time..._ I thought to myself, exasperated.

I chose a road that appeared to've been abandoned for the time being, and started running down it. The sirens were getting louder, and the road less and less inhabited. The space between buildings lengthened, and pretty soon all I could see was land, land, and more open land - wonderful. After a few minutes of nonstop running, my lungs felt like they were about to burst. But I could still hear the cop cars en route to my (wrongful) arrest (or at least I _guess_ that's what they were after) - this sped my pace, despite my muscles aching in opposition.

Finally, I could see a house in the distance... or, rather, a mansion. The thing was huge! With wrought-iron gates and schmancy statues and fountains everywhere.

I was at the gates in minutes, jumping into a climb to hop it. I made it to the top, jumped over, and hit the ground running. Which seemed to be a wise choice, considering a couple hundred (or so it seemed) machines that looked like they were stolen right outta the Men in Black prop department, rose out of the ground and began firing small freaking cannon balls at me!

_What the hell _is_ this place??_ I barely had time to think as one of the cannon balls whizzed mere inches from my face.

I ducked and rolled and dove and penguin-slid, all within seconds to dodge the rapid-fire guns. I was only five yards from the door of the mansion when the ground began tumbling over itself like a bunch of dominos rolling over in place. How was that even possible? I quickly focussed on my hands - powering them up - reached out over the tumbling cement path, and concentrated. A few sparks of aqua-blue appeared every now and then, but other than that, about half of the rolling slabs of stone began to glow the same colour palely, then exploded! As did a number of the guns that were still aiming for me.

I then leapt along the path of destroyed cement and barrelled up the mansion's deck steps, crashing through the front door and slamming it shut behind me as if I were being chased by a maniac.

All was silent besides my rough breathing, especially once I turned around to find two kids my age paused in mid-step like they were just passing through when I flew in, staring at me strangely.

I straightened up, "Uhh..."

Just then, six different people came bursting into the room. In front of the group was a young man - maybe in his early twenties, with a red visor; a blue --yeah, BLUE-- younger man with glowing yellow eyes and a long tail; a young woman with brown hair that looked relatively normal; another girl that had dark hair with a white strip, dark clothing and high gloves; a large young man that looked like he came straight from a body builder's convention; and a short, burly man with, get this, CLAWS!!

The man with the claws stepped closer to me, his next words released with a snarl, "Just who do you think you are, bub?"

I returned the frown, not for a second even considering backing down -- cuz that's just the kinda smart person I am. Instead, I stepped closer as well, "That ain't any of your business. I was just passing through."

"Passing visitors don't usually test our front security, much less _destroy_ it," The guy with the visor spat. "Every one of our alarms went off, telling us our weapon traps were compromised."

I smirked, "Look, I don't know what kinda place you're runnin' here, and frankly, I d'wanna. But if your 'security' can be bypassed by a _kid_, you should be thanking me for letting you know it."

"Listen, kid," Claw-Man growled, "no human can possibly get past all that. So you must be a mutant, right?"

"Hmm. I'll admit to that when any of you do. I'm just looking for a place to hide out."

The small, brown-haired girl smiled, "Well, you've found it.. If you're a mutant, that is." She continued upon seeing my confusion, "This is a school/safe-haven for mutants of all kinds."

"There's more than one kind?"

"..."

I shrugged, "Convenient then, that I should by chance run into this place."

"Well yer welcome ta stay," Claw-Man grumbled. "The name's Logan." he offered his hand, claws and all. Yeah, right. When I didn't take it, they retracted an instant later, making me raise an eyebrow. I got over myself and shook his hand, then looked at the rest of the group.

"I'm Scott, or Cyclops," Visor-Guy said.

"And I'm Kitty Pryde," Normal-Girl smiled, shaking my hand kindly.

The blue guy with the tail was next, disappearing with a puff of smelly yellow smoke, only to reappear at the front of the group with the same effects. He spoke with a strong German accent, "My name is Kurt Vagner. Nightcrawler, if you vant. Zis is Rogue." He put a two-fingered hand on Glove-Girl's shoulder. She nodded at me. Courteous.

"And I am Piotr Rasputin," said the mega-huge guy with a quiet, Russian accent and a shy smile. Aww... I almost wanted to pet him.

"Wow," I blinked instead. "Forgive me if I don't remember any of that. So, you all have powers?"

Kurt nodded, "Yes. Ve can all do amazing t'ings. You can, too, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged. "I don't really know what it is though... But it sure got rid of yer guns pretty nicely." I laughed. No one else did. Tough crowd.

Kitty piped up, "So, what's your name? How old are you? I saw on the video feed that you made all the weapons and the driveway _explode_. Is that your power?"

I smiled at how the girl spoke a mile a minute.

_Sheesh, note to self: be more grateful -- more often -- that you're not the giddy-girlie type._

I was about to speak when another voice from the hallway made itself heard.

"Now, now, Kitty, let's not _bombard_ the child. Rather, let us see what we can arrange for her stay." A bald man in a wheelchair emerged from the hall behind all the other mutants. They parted a path for him and Rogue and Piotr left to attend to other matters after offering their good-byes.

"Welcome, child. My name is Professor Charles Xavier."

Logan bumped his way to the front of the group and stood beside the Professor. "And it'd be nice ta know _your_ name, missy, and who you are, 'fore we go all 'open arms' on ya."

While I admired Claw-Man's apparent 'don't givva crap' attitude, I hesitated. The truth is, I don't exactly know my _real_ name. In fact, half of my life beginning from who-knows-when to who-knows-where didn't even exist in my memory. I didn't know where I came from or who I really was.. or _am,_ for that matter - just that a few years ago, I'd restarted my life and had gone on living. No sense dwelling in the forgotten past when you've got yourself a queasy, eventful future as an all-around hated mutant to go gaga over. Lovely.

But I wasn't about to tell _them_ - total strangers - that. Rather, I played out my own little mystery.

"You don't need to know my real name. But a lot of my friends call me Zak." I responded vaguely. "Don't ask me why; they never said." Not entirely true. I didn't _have_ any friends that didn't want to attack me, much less _name_ me. I'd called myself that because it was a name I remembered from back in the day. Someone I used to know, maybe. The _only_ thing I remembered from then. Everything else was blank.

"No name, huh? You got somethin' ta hide, _Zak?_ And just what storey d'you got ta go with it?" Logan crossed his arms, eyeing me like _I_ was the one with six twelve-inch claws sticking outta the backs of my hands.

"Logan, leave her be," the Professor spoke up. Thank God. I liked him already. "What her history is, it's her business. It affects nothing of her welcome."

"I appreciate that, sir, but I was only stopping by. A bit of a... mishap outside convinced me of it."

"Ah, our security, I might guess?"

I smiled, "Yeah, 'bout that... By the way, I never used my powers getting past your giant guns. Y'might wanna think about tightening up their game," I referred to Logan (and he knew it). I suspected he was the one to programme them, considering the scorn on his face each and every time I spoke of my escape.

"Well, you're most certainly welcome to stay if you should change your mind."

"Just like that? You guys take in anyone?"

"Well, of course we prefer to be informed if there is anything we _should_ know about you. You aren't a fugitive or anything related, correct?" the Professor laughed.

I returned the smile genuinely. I rather liked these people. Perhaps I could extend my impromptu 'visit' for a while. "I can honestly say that I am not."

*coughcough(maybe a _previous_ record)cough*

I continued, "I try to avoid wrongdoing - especially with the mutant police on their rampage. I'll admit to being a vandal occasionally, but that just goes with the mutant territory; trying to figure out what the heck my powers are. Maybe it'd be best if I _did_ stay for a bit, just to keep under the radar. I assume - this being a 'mutant school' - that this place is kept well secure?"

"You assume correctly. My Institute for mutants, like ourselves, is not openly known to be that to the public - making it virtually a safe-haven."

"I don't wanna be a burden or anything..."

The Professor waved his hand in dismissal, "Nonsense. To accept any fellow mutant who needs us is precisely the reason I created this school."

"And are we to assume that yer _folks_ will be on the level with you crashin' here, kid?" Logan inquired rudely.

"As a matter of fact," I replied bitterly, "I don't even know who the heck they are. Never knew 'em, so I'm pretty sure they couldn't givva crap 'bout what I do with myself."

Logan looked away awkwardly, muttering something that sounded vaguely like an apology.

And just like _that_, I was a new student of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. Talk about present hospitality. I had a feeling I was going to like it here for a while, before I had to head back out into the real world. That pleasant little place where you were arrested if you had a _second head_ - jeez, can you say _pissy?_ - crossed your eyes, or just breathed near someone wrong.

Yup. My big ol', wonderful life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Getting Used To the Joint

NEW YORK. (THE NEXT DAY)

Wednesday, 7:00 am - The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children

I awoke with a start. I found the reason sitting on the nightstand beside my temporary bed - there was a simple alarm clock announcing its timer with a continuous blare, one that I don't remember ever setting. This little fact gave me the idea that maybe 7:00 was the standard 'greet-the-day' time for this place.

I sat up in the double bed and pondered over what exactly had happened the evening before.

All I remembered after a full night of blissful sleep (rare to someone like me) was that I was led to a rather large bedroom with one bed, a dresser, a bathroom - my OWN BATHROOM! - and other nice necessities. The one who had led me here was the little blue guy - Kurt, if I remembered correctly. Yeah. If only I had that evening. There were a lot of strange people here, it wasn't exactly an easy name to remember, but I was pretty relieved to find out that he hadn't minded when I'd misplaced it. He had a nice smile, I'd found myself thinking just as I prepared to call it a day.

And that was it. Nothing else that special, nothing else to log down in my 'things that tried to kill me' journal.

Back to the present, I lugged myself outta bed, and took a quick shower in - that's right - MY VERY OWN FREAKING BATHROOM! You have no idea how much of a luxury that is for me. Living on my own, the very closest thing I've had to my own bathroom is when I bunkered down in the bathtub 'cuz all the rent-a-room cubicles were taken. Filthy vultures...

Anyway, I put on the pants I wore the day before. Just a pair of hipster, khaki cargoes. I pulled a clean shirt out of my backpack - a black form-fitter with sleeves that just passed my shoulders. I was lacing up my combat boots and tucking the ends of my pants into them when I unconsciously noted that I would do well with new shoes. I've never actually had _new_ shoes before, the only ones I've ever gotten were all used... Don't ask.

I ran a comb through my super-dark hair until it looked moderately decent, and brushed my teeth. I left the room with my backpack sitting, all packed, by the foot of the bed. In case of the need for a quick getaway, it was better to be safe than sorry.

***

The next thirty minutes were strangely uneventful. Well, as far as 'strangeness' goes when you get lost in a freakishly massive mansion on your way to the kitchen.

I was making my way down a hallway identical to the first ten I'd walked prior, when I came to a dead end.

"Aw, come on!" I shouted at the picture-framed wall. Why the heck did the hall just end like this? Poor layout designing if you ask me. I turned back the way I came, ready and willing to seriously injure the person who dared try to even _talk_ to me at this point in my frustration.

That rather hostile thought dissipated the next instant as Kurt stepped out of a doorway to my right. He was holding a weird-looking watch and grinning to himself. He almost didn't notice me as he stared downward at the watch and walked forward, nearly walking right into me, had I not stepped back.

He flinched in surprise. "Oh! Zak... It is you. Vhy are you not downstairs? Eating breakfast vith ze oz'ers?"

"I got swallowed up by this funhouse... a couple hundred times... You wouldn't happen to know where the nearest flight of stairs is, would you?"

The Nightcrawler laughed, "Yes. Zis place can be very confusing to find your vay around in. I vill show you, ja?"

I shrugged and smiled, "Yeah, okay." I noticed him strap the watch he was holding to his left wrist and felt compelled to say with my usual humbleness, "Wow, that's a pretty funny-looking watch."

He looked up and chuckled. "Yes, vell... It allows me to be more like ze rest of you."

"How do you mean?" I didn't feel it appropriate to point out that he had blue skin and glowing yellow eyes and a very not-human tail with a barb at the end.

"Vell, all I have to do is turn zis dial and..."

All of a sudden, a staticky image replaced Kurt's first appearance with a more human-looking Kurt. Fair skin, no tail, five fingers and toes, and amber eyes. Wow, _that_ was something I wasn't expecting. But blue skin or no... I couldn't help but find his full smile to be... What? Cute?

Hold up! Where am I going with this? Why am I telling YOU this? Jeez, you get caught in some fun-maze mansion with a guy (two or so) _years_ older than you on the way to breakfast and suddenly thoughts get thunk and feelings get felt. Man, just... read on, or something...

"Nice! You do that often?" I asked, genuinely interested.

"Only vhen I am to go out in public and not be made fun of."

I frowned, "That sucks. You shouldn't have to hide yourself behind some goofy watch just to be accepted. I think you look cool the way you are... the way you _really_ are."

That seemed to brighten him up a bit because his smile returned, broader than ever, and he switched the watch off.

"Dänke," he said.

About five turns and two sitting rooms later, Kurt and I finally made it to the main stairway. He outstretched his arm, indicating for me to go first - even though there was more than enough room to go down at the same time - and followed right after me. He took me past a 'classroom' - I guess you could call it, and led me right into the kitchen/dining room.

"Here ve are," he announced unnecessarily. An awkward smile followed.

I smiled back and thanked him. As he sat at the large dining table with the rest of the students eating, hands flying everywhere, grabbing plates, waffles, eggs, bacon, and so on, he patted on the empty chair beside his own. I grinned and parked it next to him.

The tall girl across the way from me suddenly said, "So, you're the new student, right? My name's Jean."

"Zak," I said.

"What's your mutation, Zak? I saw a part of the video from yesterday, but details were a little sparse."

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think that if I focus hard enough, wherever, on a small point of energy in the atmosphere, I can somehow force it to heat up till it explodes."

"Really? That's something different."

"I also have a weirdo perception that lets me sort of _sense_ facts about things. I have another bonus power... but I kinda want that one to be a surprise."

Jean shrugged and tucked a lock of bright red hair behind her ear. "I'm telepathic and telekinetic. I probably don't need to explain what that entails, though. But exploding energy and 'weirdo perceptions'... that's cool."

"Thanks."

Kurt swallowed a mouthful of eggs before adding in his own words, "Cyclops can shoot optic beams from his eyes, it's very neat. Kitty can phase t'rough anyt'ing and Piotr's skin turns to metal." He pointed to each mutant he spoke of, naming off their powers, "Rogue can absorb any mutant's powers and basically drain you of your memories and make zem her own. Zat is vhy she cannot touch anoz'er person's skin vith her own."

Jean piped in, "See that guy over there, sitting by Rogue?" She pointed off to a boy with messy blonde hair under a crooked baseball cap and wearing a sweat jacket. "His name is Bobby Drake. He can create ice and transform his body into ice for armour. His partner in crime and pranks isn't here for another coupla days, but you'll meet him soon enough. His name's Evan Munroe."

"What can he do?" I asked.

Kurt answered in Jean's place, "He can create bone spikes from his own body and use zem as t'rowing projectiles. Ze Professor is a Telepath, like Jean, but he's ze most powerful in ze vorld, maybe. And you already know of Logan's power, ja?"

"Logan..." I pretended not to recall, tapping my chin in false thought, "Short lil' fella, majour bee up his butt?"

Jean sputtered the milk she was drinking and Kurt grinned. "Ja. Zat's him. Vith ze Adamantium claws--"

"--That can rip yer tail right off yer seat cushion, bub."

Both Kurt and I spun around in our chairs at the sound of Logan's voice. _Speak o' the devil..._ I thought to myself. Jean was looking very uncomfortable, poking around the scrambled eggs on her plate with her fork, her head hanging so low that you couldn't see her face.

"L-Logan, ve vere just..." Kurt stuttered.

"Save it, bub. You just earned yerself an extra week's-worth o' Danger Room training sessions. With _me._" He said as he sat down next to -- you got it -- me. That had to be one of the very few times in my life that I've ever been _that_ uncomfortable. And let me tell you, I can count those seriously uncomfortable times on ONE HAND. So if a ticked Logan sitting by me after a joke like that ranked up on that list, you gotta know how twitchy I must've been feeling.

"Mornin', kid. You have a nice stay so far?"

"It's been memorable..." I answered truthfully. "Hey, what's the Danger Room?"

Logan looked at me when I asked that with an excited expression. I mean, with a name like _that_ for a room, you know it has to be cool - I couldn't resist asking.

"It's the training space we use ta practise fightin'. It can project any scenario you can possibly imagine, as well as pop up any kinda dangerous obstacle to cut ya up ta shreds."

"Sounds right up my alley. Will I get to see it later on?"

Logan chuckled in that special way he does that makes you feel so happy and safe, "A student of _this_ joint... You'll get to train in it. It ain't all guns an' roses, though, kid. It can be a real fight fer yer life."

And with that, I felt twitchy in a good way. I was bursting with inward excitement until later that day when it was finally time to check out the _Danger Room._ DUN, DUN, DUUUNNNN!!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: The Danger Room

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK. (LATER)

Wednesday, 4:36 pm - The Lab Outside the Danger Room

I couldn't wait to get into the Danger Room. It was like having a lollipop waved around in your face when you haven't eaten for days. Torture. But until our scheduled training session, it was suggested by Cyclops that I meet their resident doctor/scientist - a big, blue, furry guy I'd come to be told was called the Beast. But his real name was Dr. Henry McCoy. Or Hank, is what he'd told me to call him.

We - me, Scott, Kurt, Rogue, Logan, Jean, Bobby, Kitty, and Piotr - were standing around the large laboratory while Hank had me occasionally use my energy powers.

"Well, I don't exactly know how to help you in the concentration department," He'd begun an hour earlier. "But I might have a solution to the feedback energy that reacts with metal."

As it turned out, Hank had run some complicated tests that I didn't understand and came up with the reason why everything metal within a ten-foot radius of me combusted whenever I used my power. This is what he'd said:

"The true nature of your power is actually reminiscent to that of Remy LaBeau, a mutant who possesses the ability to superheat kinetic energy. Except he has to come into contact with the object he's heating, and you do not. When you focus on a point of energy somewhere, and it explodes, surplus radiation from the raw energy wafts until it dissipates. The pure energy causes a chemical reaction with a unique common compound found within metal, and it causes it to expand and explode quicker than your intended target heats up." He'd rubbed his hands together in pride at his accurate analysis of the predicament. After all, I couldn't go around using my power when a few of the other students actually had metal skin and stuff. Ouch.

Anyway, within, like, two hours, the furry guy had develouped these cool gauntlets made entirely out of Carbonadium (the lesser form of Adamantium that's loaded with radiation but supposedly lacks that special compound found in other metals, making it immune to my powers. Although it's not quite as indestructible as Logan's metal. Crap.) ...(P.S. Don't ask me where they found the stuff, they still won't answer me.)

I wore them now, as a matter of fact. They were pretty dang sleek and covered over my entire hands all the way up to just above my elbows. The purpose of them was to somehow keep any surplus energy -- besides the energy I heated intentionally -- from heating up. Eliminating the possibility of extra radiation 'wafting' (heheh) around after I blew something up. They also packed a mighty punch. Pretty ingenious, huh? Whatever. They looked awesome.

But the best part was the reason I would really need them. The reason I had decided to prolong my stay to, well, be indefinite, if things went right. These people had a club! Like, a super hero club. They called themselves the X-men, and ran around in similar leather costumes with an X on them. Big or small, noticeable or not, there was at least one X on each of their suits. They told me that if I stuck around and got really good with my powers, I would become an X-Man. Sweet.

Till then, I was content with just training in the Danger Room, which had turned out to be a lot bigger than I'd envisioned. It was just one big, metal room with high ceilings and rounded walls. Very bare.

_Perhaps they should get a fern._ I thought to myself, only half joking.

Once we were all in the giant room, Hank sealed the doors from the the control room above our heads. I was looking around when Scott came up to me with the cheesiest smile I'd imagine a person could muster. He was trying to look friendly and approachable, but, frankly, it was just kinda creepy.

"Don't freak out when Hank finally gets the system fired up," he said. "It'll be pretty rough. Just try to stay alive, and have your allies' backs."

"I'll give it my best, boss-man," I replied.

"That's all I ask. But try not to blow _every_thing up, 'kay? Perfection takes practise, and you have to take practise slow."

"Yupyupyup. I'm all over it."

Cyclops sighed and muttered something under his breath as he walked away to go over the 'synchronised' plan with the rest of the team. We were supposed to be practising our powers and teamwork on a bunch of spinning blades, electric chargers, and rotating thingamajigs. Among other impossible machinery.

As soon as the battle plan had been discussed and adjusted, the silver, metal walls of the Danger Room rumbled with life. Random pieces of metal floor were sliding away to erect several dangerous obstacles; the walls opened up to reveal protruding razors designed to detect nearby movement; the ceiling began lowering metallic, serrated stalactites - some lower than others, all pumping up and down toward us like pistons. I was told that the point was to follow the obstacles in a path as they came.

Immediately, every X-Man dispersed, taking off in the direction of the first set of spinning razors. Nightcrawler, I noticed instantly, had 'bamf'ed to a hanging perch above us, awaiting his own time to move out. What for, I'm sure I was bound to find out.

Meanwhile, Cyclops had taken the lead, blasting one of the razors that was taller than him. The serrated disk ceased its rapid rotation and crashed off its perch, rolling like a spiny wheel toward the rest of us. Colossus armoured-up and took the impact, letting us all pass by him as he took a second to recover.

Next came a series of posts with swinging maces attached to them. This time, it was every man for himself. Each of us flipped and ducked our way through the maze of spiky bats hurtling at us with every revolution. I was almost out of the field, watching the last few maces as they swung around. I ran at them and pulled an airborne round-off through an opening between two of the bats as they came milliseconds from sweeping past eachother. I landed gracefully and silently thanked my miserable years on the streets for teaching me junk like that. I ran to catch up with the rest of the team.

We approached a huge, empty pit in the floor that seemed to be endless - all the while dodging the rising-and-falling stalactites. The pit had no discernable crossing point, but Iceman quickly made up for that by constructing a narrow slide of ice to 'ice-surf' his way across. The slide evaporated seconds later. Thanks Bobby.

Wolverine jumped at the wall and stabbed his indestructible claws deep into it, swinging himself over and repeating the process until he was close enough to the other side to throw himself to safety. Nightcrawler was less flashy, simply disappearing from his perch and 'porting his way across; Colossus offered his good right arm, which Rogue and Kitty accepted sheepishly, allowing Piotr to chuck them to the other side. I was still mentally debating my mode of transportation, shyly declining (secretly refusing) to be tossed over the long, empty chasm. Rather, a better idea came to mind.

Watching Jean float across the pit, Colossus spring himself to a low-hanging bar and flip to the other side, and Cyclops shoot his optic blasts at the edge, using inertia to throw himself across, I figured now would be an appropriate time to reveal to my fellow X-Men, my final, bonus power. Oh, yeah. You've been waitin' for this too, right?

I cracked my knuckles as well as my Carbonadium gauntlets would allow, stepped back a bit to gather speed, and began running diagonally toward the wall, jumping and barrelling along it sideways. Once I was halfway across, I pushed off, flinging myself a good ten feet in the air only to land on the other side with an impact that would break any other person's legs or ankles. Mine didn't.

"What the--" Cyclops was waiting directly in front of my position. His expression held shocked confusion and wonder, "How did you do that?"

I smiled, "That whole wall-running thing is just a skill, one that I practised as a result of... nevermind. As for the the landing, I have an extra mutation that allows me to absorb impact."

"... You're... invulnerable?"

"In a word. It comes with limitations, though. Ones that would be better explained _not_ here. We have training to accomplish and succeed in. Let's go, Boss-Man," I grinned and ran past him, meeting the others at the next challenge:

A wave of robot-like sapiens about as tall as coat racks, standing their ground in front of the only path to the next obstacles.

Taking care of myself - as was the point of these sessions - I shot my arm out, concentrating and erupting an entire row of the sapiens. I muscled my way forward, crossing my forearms before my face to avoid any attacks to my head. Also, I found a few opportunities to sweep a few off their platform feet, crashed a couple egg-shaped head together, and even roundhouse a few of them in half! I'm not sure how the other X-Men made their way through, but I was already on to the next danger.

I met Nightcrawler at the brink of utter destruction. No, really. The following challenge was an enormous section blasting fire a full two feet outwards from spouts in the walls. There were poisonous (I'm guessing) gases wafting around at knee-level, as well, discouraging any smarty-pants from simply crawling beneath the plumes of flames that would shut off simultaneously for a total of four seconds every six seconds. This one was gonna be a toughie.

"You done this one before?" I asked Kurt, who stood at the edge of the section, looking for a break, an advantage among the obstacle's design. He told me that there was some sort of repelling field set into this part of the training, one that resisted his teleportation.

"There has to be _some_ way to get across," I insisted.

Kurt nodded, "Yes. Each obstacle has its veakness, its pressure point... I've just never conquered zis vun alone."

I observed the spouts and vents spewing flames and toxins. "You're not alone. I think I've got an idea," I grinned mischievously, taking his hand and leading him to the left wall, where one of the spouts was blasting the flames directly outward. I sensed this one to be special, noticing how it held longer before shooting its fire. "Watch closely, then follow my lead." I said.

Once the fire had been released and dissipated, I raced forward, Kurt right in tow. An instant before the second blast occurred, I put my wrists together, palms outward-facing, and exploded the metal ring around the spout's insulated cap. Just as I expected, it blew off into the path of the flame-thrower across the way, which shot it into the next one, and the next one, creating an unbelievable chain reaction of the same process, zigzagging into each flame's way, popping the rest of the caps and busting the spouts. As each insulation cap blew off, the fire from that spout ceased. We ran to the other side of the section, high-fiving eachother in celebration.

The rest of the team showed up just then, walking through the busted area, impression clear on their faces.

Logan propped himself against the wall, "Not bad, kiddo. You just might have the stuff it takes to be an X-Man, after all."

"Thanks," I smiled gratefully. Despite my preference of flying solo, knowing that I was accepted as a friend and ally so quickly and willingly made me feel better than anything I'd ever felt in my life. That's what I've always wanted, somewhere to come home to. I apologise for getting all sappy on you, that ain't my style, but I just can't help but feel... like I've got more of a... Purpose? Wow. Sure need one o' those.

I received more pats on the back for not only surviving, but _shredding_ the Danger Room training on an X-Man level.

A purpose, huh? Yeah... I'd like that.

***

(LATER)

"So, you can become invulnerable to physical impact at any given moment, or is it continuous?" This from Hank McCoy a half-an-hour after our successful Danger Room session.

I explained, "I have to know the blow's coming, though. If someone were to unexpectedly whack me with a two-by-four, I'd get hurt, same as anyone else. But if I notice something before it hits me, I can resist it. Much like Colossus, here-" I chucked my thumb over my shoulder at Piotr entering the lab. "If he's in his average state, it's a no-go. But he can armour-up and take it without a scratch."

"Interesting," was all the good doctor said, rubbing his chin and turning back to his computer to type something complicated. "That could be a valuable asset for field work, not to mention, that makes training you a top priority. Have no fear; with that power in general, you'll be an X-Man in no time."

Kurt was standing next to me. He was looking at me eagerly, taking in what was being said... Which I gotta say, kinda had me feeling awkward. After all, this was natural to me, but he seemed to be amazed like a kindergartner would be.

An X-Man? So quickly?

Bring it on.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: The Brotherhood Strikes

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK. (SIX MONTHS LATER)

Friday, 6:12 pm - The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children

Looking back on my first day here at the school, I almost find it appropriate to laugh at myself. I couldn't believe how snarky I was when I first got here. It'd been a few months since then, and somehow I felt different... Don't ask me _why._ I mean, for sixteen years of my life (or from what I remember) I was a headstrong punk with absolutely no concern for the little things in life. Hence my personality record. But after spending only a coupla months around this joint, I noticed how I was a lot less short-fused and... rude.

Don't get me wrong - the sarcastic, quick-witted, huggable girl you once knew is still buried in my guts somewhere, I'm just a lot more tolerable to be around now.

I sat there, in my room, gazing out the large window that overlooked the front yard (nah, I was really just lost in my annoying thoughts.) I couldn't help but wonder what brought me here in the first place. I used to be insane about finding my true identity, searching for whoever caused me to forget... Where I'd learned my freaking Kung Fu, 'cuz I seemed to be a pro at it. For all I knew, I might've been a sensei's apprentise back in 'the day', or something. Anyway, the need to know had left me for quite some time after I accepted my loneliness, but recently it'd begun to gnaw at my every thought. It'd even haunted my dreams a few times. I guess I was just hitting that cliché, 'gotta find myself' stage. Wahoo.

I was just about to sulk a bit more when a knock on my door interrupted my pity-party.

_Oh, it's Logan._ I thought to myself as I sensed it might be him. I called for him to come in.

"Hey, kid," the Wolverine began as he made himself at home on my desk chair. "We missed ya at dinner."

"Yeah, I... wasn't hungry." I said convincingly.

Logan didn't look like he was buying it. He crossed his arms behind his head and gave me a soft look --very uncharacteristic of him. He said, "Sure there ain't just somethin' you wanna talk about? I know I don't seem like the kinda person who'd be askin' that--"

Took the thoughts right outta my head.

"--but I seen somethin' strange 'bout you lately, an' I'll admit that you've grown on me, kid. So what's botherin' ya?" he asked sincerely.

I couldn't help but shrug. In the past months, Logan had become less of a crab and more like a friend to me. I didn't know what it was, but I just felt like I could trust him.

I looked out the window again and wondered how to subtly change the subject... No such luck talking to someone as to-the-point and gruff as Wolverine. He grunted in encouragement, waiting for me to say something.

"I dunno. I've sorta been thinking a lot about what I'm doing here. I'm a bit... confused - I guess you could say - about who I am now and what I'm doing with my life."

Logan nodded his understanding and said, "Everyone goes through it, pun'kin. You just gotta follo' yer heart and either muscle yer way through the headaches, or decide whether this place's the right life for ya."

Wow. The deepest words I believe I've ever heard Logan speak. His expert knowledge on happily-ever-afters notwithstanding, I couldn't really take those words seriously. I mean, I love it here. This has got to be the only place I remember myself willing to call 'home'. And it wasn't really my previous life that I missed, just the fact that I was a mystery to myself. But I suppose there was really no way to make him understand other than to let him in on my little secrets - about how the majourity of my life was non-existent to me, how I didn't really _have_ a secret real name, and about how all my combat and strategy skills' origins are about as familiar to me as they were to anybody else. What a mess.

But I also knew that I couldn't just share that info like I was telling my hamster. It wasn't anybody's business to know the blacks-and-whites of my memories. Or lack there-of.

"I don't know what to think right now, Logan. I'm just a little... My head's getting a little too full for my liking. I don't know if I can handle all the things that're being packed into it."

"This's about yer secrets and dreams, right, kid?"

I shot a disbelieving look towards him. I'd never told anyone of my recent nightmares - I never would have. "How do you--"

"It's unintentional, kid. Whenever somebody has a bad dream or somethin', they send off a... let's call it an SOS flare. They call fer help, like any human would if the situation were real. An' that flare can be too fantastic for Jean or the Prof to ignore. Charley caught on to it a while back, kept 'im up every night, and he was about to head down here himself, but I told him I'd check it out instead. I thought you might be more likely to tell me 'bout it than him. Was I right?"

I lowered my head, making my dark hair fall into my face. I rubbed my eyes and sighed, "I guess so. But there's really nothing I can tell you. It was just a bad dream. Stuff involving my past, and stuff. Nothing to get too wound up over. Really," I added, noting his raised eyebrow.

Logan stood up, "Well, if there's really nothin'... But just a warnin', Chuck's gettin' pretty irritable with his sleepless nights. So if yer not gonna do nothin' 'bout yer nightmares, don't be too offended if the Prof suddenly cracks and puts a mental block on all yer accessible dreams. G'night." The Wolverine closed the door behind himself.

Offended? Shoot, I'd hug the guy. No more dreams to add to my personal stress would only serve for peaceful nights and tolerable days. I finally might be able to live with myself.

***

No sooner was I down the next morning for breakfast, than a telepathic mission memo was sent throughout the mansion to all who would participate in it. Scott, myself, Logan, Kurt, Rogue, Piotr, and Jean were the lucky ducks who would be flying the X-Jet to some remote part of Genosha to handle a few members of the Brotherhood who were stirring up trouble.

I had no idea where Genosha was, but I well knew of the X-Men's previous missions there. I had been promoted to full X-Man in my time here, and had trained to be pretty good at my powers. I finally had my own schmancy costume, which was -- rather than the standard dark-blue -- dark-grey with a large, offset red X with a black outline on the high-collared shirt, my sleeves went just passed my shoulders and were also black. I had a cool belt with a buckle shaped like an X, it wasn't meant to hold up my pants or anything, though. My pants had a large red and black X on either outer thigh, along with wide zippers by the waistband as fake pockets. My pantlegs tucked into a pair of sleek Carbonadium boots, rather than my usual combat boots. As well, my equally sleek metal gauntlets seriously complimented the dark base colour of my uniform. I was ready and rarin' to go.

Plus, I even got a new codename - courtesy of Beast. Ready...? The Enigma. OH, yeah! Pretty dang sweet, in my opinion.

The X-Jet touched down at Genosha's eastern beach, just a walk away from the ruin and debris of the Great Genoshan Battle from years before my time. Also, from where we were landed, we could plainly see the city due south, where local Genosha-folk had rebuild their country's main land. Cyclops lowered the jet's ramp and we all filed out, looking professional and powerful. Hopefully the Brotherhood would think so too.

I had been with the X-Men long enough to have fought in a few battles with the Brotherhood of Mutants, the most recent being the time their finances had run dry, and their master - whether being Mystique or even Magneto (I couldn't keep up. Probably the former.) - had a couple of them rob the Westchester First Bank for a few K's. We'd succeeded in professionally kicking their arses.

"Why didn't we land closer to the city? Now we've got to _walk_ there," I complained from the centre of the group as we paraded toward the foreign structures.

Logan was the first to respond, "'Cuz of a probation the Genoshan authorities put on all our X-transports after the Elf crashed the Velocity on their City Hall." All glaring eyes turned to the Teleporter in question, whom graced them all with an embarrassed, toothy grin.

I lagged behind, as did Kurt, until we were walking next to eachother. "Do I wanna ask?" I inquired warily. The blue mutant shook his head, saying:

"Nein. It vas... memorable in its own vay. Not vorth mentioning. Ever."

Once within the city limits, we immediately located the Brotherhood terrorising some citizens who had the guts to approach their destruction. Each of the Brotherhood members began to split up, sending Avalanche to crash a few tall buildings, and Blob was throwing himself against cars and other large things. Cyclops was already on the move to keep Blob from crushing anything more, while people fled in every which direction. He depressed the button on his visor and shot a wide beam at the Blob, it blasted the guy into a wall of a nearby shop.

Jean was putting her TK to use, righting the buildings that Avalanche was trying to topple. They were just about fixed when the earthquaking mutant started rushing the Telepath, readying himself to throw his hands into the ground and cause the ground to crumble beneath her. Logan took his cue, running at Avalanche, claws bared. The Wolverine thrust his claws diagonally into his opponent's armour, spun him around himself, and chucked the Earthquaker into a fire hydrant.

Around the corner, Nightcawler and Rogue were taking on Toad and Pietro. Kurt was busy 'porting to a different location around Toad each time the frog-like mutant shot his green shmootz at him. Toad was getting very frustrated as Kurt appeared in another position around him, throwing punches at Toad, only to 'bamf' away before the Brotherhood member could retaliate.

Where was I as all this was taking place? Funny you should ask, really...

My first instinct as I saw Pyro torching a line of vehicles, cackling his head off, was to rush him and take him by surprise from behind. My plan, unfortunately, left off after that. I ran at a good speed - picking up momentum - I hopped into the bed of a pickup that was behind Pyro, jumped over the cab and onto the hood, rocketing myself into the back of Pyro. The flame-manipulator crashed face-first into the asphalt with a strangled 'oof!', leaving him disoriented for the moment.

Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, I clamped the gas hoses that ran from the tank on his back to his hands between my gauntlets and, using the small, retractable scythes on the sides (a new feature Beast cooked up over time, one that I LOVED), sliced them in half.

_No more playing with fire for you, big boy,_ I thought as I clambered up from my knees and took off to aid my friends.

I was fast approaching Cyclops in his battle with the Blob when a massive billboard sign came flying at me from the fight between Wanda and Jean. I knew that I wouldn't be able to evade the enormous plate of metal if I tried, so I stood my ground as it neared. I closed my eyes tight a second before the iron board crashed into me full-force. Thick as it was, the metal bent and snapped upon impact, tumbling off on either side of me. I stood, unscathed, ready to help in taking down the Scarlet Witch who meant to hurl that at my more _vulnerable_ friends.

"Hey!" I called to Scarlet Witch. She turned briefly from her battle to identify me, allowing Jean the opportunity to enter her mind. The probability-alterer cried out and doubled over, clutching her head as Jean confused her realities. Soon, the Scarlet Witch was down for the count. Not completely unconscious, but with temporarily scrambled brain waves, she might as well've been.

I turned to find Cyclops blasting his optic beams as Blob for all he was worth. By the time I made my way to Scott's side, he'd already brought the heavy mutant down.

"What is it that they're even doing here?" I asked.

Scott looked around at the few remaining battles being fought, three and a half blocks were destroyed by the fighting and use of powers. "I don't know. But we're gonna find out." And with that, Cyclops was bounding after Avalanche, I was hot on his trail.

Scott blasted the ground beneath Avalanche, causing him to trip head-over-heels onto his back. "We have some questions," Cyclops said, glaring down at the Brotherhood mutant. Rogue and Nightcrawler were walking towards us, looking unnervingly satisfied with themselves.

"... How'd it go?" I asked reluctantly.

"Nuz'ing to report," Kurt smiled mischievously. Whereas, actually, if you were to walk around the block to where their fight had taken place, you'd find Toad's tongue binding Quicksilver's wrists to his own ankles, both mutants hanging from a flag pole protruding horizontally from an Infirmary office. Ironic, yeah?

Back to us, Avalanche knew better than to try to take us all on, alone. He gathered up his significantly scarce dignity and remained where he was, staring at the leader of the X-Men as Scott milked him for answers.

"What are you and the other Brotherhood losers doing here, of all places, in Genosha?"

Avalanche (aka: Lance... I don't remember) sneered, "Isn't it obvious? We're wreaking havoc on an innocent country. Isn't that what all the bad guys do?"

"Quit wastin' our time, bub," Logan piped in. "We got ourselves enough prob'ems without you and yer backwash lackeys causin' crap fer no reason."

"Oh, there's a reason," Scott insisted, "Mystique wouldn't've sent them all the way to another country for trivial games--"

"Puh-leez," Lance smirked. "We're past Mystique. She couldn't handle our methods, so we ditched her."

"You mean--?"

"Yup. Magneto's back in action, baby. And there ain't nothin' you X-creeps can do about it."

Wolverine stepped forward and suckerpunched the Earthquaker, knocking him out cold. After some time passed, we managed to get our opponent mutants into the X-Jet and put away in a maximum-security facility under extreme vandalism and citizen endangerment charges. However, knowing Magneto and his punks, they were sure to find a way out. Meantime, we were feeling pretty good about ourselves, all except for the fact that Logan had managed to wipe out our only means of knowing what the Master of Magnetism was planning. There's another little check, among many, under Logan's name now.

***

"You allowed your impulsiveness to take you under its control once again, Logan. And this time, it's cost us precious knowledge and answers," This from Professor Xavier, whom was at his desk, grilling Wolverine over the situation back on Genosha, when he'd socked Lance's lights out before we could be told anything worthwhile.

"I a'ready said I'm sorry. Waddaya want from me, Chuck? A kidney?"

Xavier rubbed his forehead, "What I want, Logan, is for you to control yourself on a daily basis. If we have to reserve some time in the Danger Room once in a while for you to express your frustration, so be it. But I'll not have any more missions compromised or necessary information forewent simply because you cannot resist your rather violent nature."

Logan put his right hand over his heart, "You have my word as an ex-soldier that I will not compromise anymore natures."

"Yes. Very well," Xavier sighed and waved his hand in dismissal.

I backed away from the window I shared with Kurt, Kitty, and Bobby outside the Professor's study. "Man, he got schooled," I said solemnly.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, also withdrawing his face from the glass, "But he vill be over it in no time. Nuz'ing gets to Volverine. A little berating never stops him from doing vhat he feels is necessary."

Bobby laced his fingers behind his head, "Yeah. That said, now Logan's just gonna be plain blunt with anyone he comes in contact with. His way of shrugging off the majour wrist-slappings he receives. I think I speak for all of us when I say: I vow to keep clear of the Wolverine for the next coupla hours."

Just our luck, at that moment, we all (well, at least _I_ did) heard the Professor's voice within our heads.

/You children ought to be very careful; I'm sure that Wolverine could smell you nearby even from inside this room./

_That stings a little,_ I sent back jokingly.

/I'm sure you are aware of what I'm actually implying, Enigma./

_I didn't take into consideration Logan's heightened senses. Think he'll be mad?_

/I do not think he'll be too flattered, my child. Eavesdropping is wrong and disrespectful, you should abstain from committing the act in the future, are we clear? All of you?/

So it wasn't just me. Each of us nodded simultaneously and made our way out of the bushes, Bobby in the lead. He commented:

"Well, I've had enough trouble for one day. I'm gonna announce a swim party - any of you in?"

Kurt shrugged, "I could go for a little svimming. Be right back." He 'ported away.

"Swim party...? Sure," Kitty replied.

"Well, I'm feeling decidedly lazy today," I said. "I hear an untimely nap and video games callin' me. Later." I turned and headed to the side entrance. Some down-time was seriously in order, my biggest problem right now would be: I gotta walk _all the way_ to my room? Ugh...

But hey, this is _my_ life we're talking about, right? So, honestly, could that really be all that happened next?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Programme Cardinal

NEW YORK. (LATER THAT SAME DAY)

Saturday, 4:12 pm - The Institute's Downstairs Hallway

I was on my way to the sitting room to take care of my gaming crave before I crashed, when I passed by the Situation room -- an extra sitting room converted to be a computer room for receiving mission messages without the hassle of checking the War room down in the subbasement -- by the elevator. I'd only been in there a few times (when there was serious situations, naturally) but that knowledge wasn't what stopped me in my tracks. It was the hush-hush words coming from the video communicator that piqued my curiosity.

I backed up and peered through the slightly-ajar doorway, noticing that there was another person already in the room. I unconsciously sensed that presence to be...

_Logan... What's he doin' in there?_

"Fury, I ain't got time to sit here an' chitchat. You called fer a reason, I'm reckonin'?" I heard Logan grumble. Another voice, not quite as deep, responded:

*Wolverine, impatience never DID look good on you. Nevertheless, I'm only here to fill you in on something here at SHIELD that I found interesting. What FOR, I can't say I recall.*

"The 'somethin' bein'...?"

_SHIELD? Logan's old employers? Oh! Now I know who he's talking to... That general guy... Nick Fury, I think._

Understanding the way that guy's talked about around here, I assumed he was a real piece of work.

*Thirteen months ago, we sent a squad to the Yukon to gather up what was left of the K512 mission, only for them to find the equipment missing. We activated the tracers built into them, and tracked them down to latitude 59.104078, longitude 105.187225. In other words, it's an old base of ours. Abandoned, of course.*

Logan picked up a pen and wrote down some of Fury's words. "Is that why yer callin' me? You want me to check it out fer ya, or somethin'?"

*No. By no means are you to approach this location. You've already been legally discharged - the director would have my ass if he found out you were involved in any way. The reason I'm telling you this is because my team had infiltrated this base... and sent a live feed of what they found. I'm wiring the video to you as we speak. And Logan, you know the drill; this information is beyond top-secret--*

"Yeah, yeah. Keep my yap shut." Logan was now hunched over the secondary screen, watching the video file with intense interest.

From my standing point by the door, I couldn't make out the pictures, but the audio was coming through decently. I heard one of the agents say in a hoarse whisper:

/--is November Foxtrot reporting. Jenner and Holiday are with me in the-- --of the base. I'm having Jen-- hack the mainframe. All systems seem to be responding perfectly. November to base, I repeat, all systems of the abandoned base are in perfect w--ing order. ...Okay, there are twelve automatic cells down five levels und--ground. It seems that whoever has taken over this base has been swiping resources from another operational base somewhere in Europe. My best guess is-- --trying to throw us off-track by having the supplies sent to North America and then intercepting-- --liveries. There's also been majour electricity being wired to the underground levels of the base. I'm talking thou--nds of watts. I'm thinking that they're running something big down there. And according to the logging files, they've been trying to keep it under the radar for at least ten years-- Holiday!!--/ Automatic rifles went off in rapid-fire.

Popopopopopopopopopopop!

And the feed went dead.

Fury cleared his throat on the other screen, regaining Logan's attention. *We lost Agents Vennison, Jenner, and Holiday on that mission. Their tracers went dead and we couldn't pick up their signatures with the sat. My sector here at HQ is responsible for cleaning up this mess, and with the information that the agents sent us, we're ninety-percent certain that the residents of that old base are running some kind of experimental training facility beneath it. That would explain all the stolen resources, as well as the serious Powerplant drainage that's been underway for all these years in Canada.*

"What'd'ya mean by 'experimental training facility'?"

*Meaning it's very much reminiscent of the Weapon X Programme as far as the files on their mainframe go.*

Logan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair he sat in. "I thought you guys kept tabs on alla the SHIELD bases 'round the world. How'd ya lose touch with _this_ one?"

*About ten years ago, the blueprints for the facility disappeared, as well as the files pinpointing its coordinates. It was only until that live feed was sent that we rediscovered its whereabouts. And before you say anything: yes, it was completely unprofessional of us not to back up those computer files, however, it was in a high-security zipped file, buried deep in our supercomputer that nobody has the passwords to except for the head-honcho himself. Nobody expected some rogue hacker to fry our system.*

"Some _rogue_ hacker? So yer sayin' you think it was an inside job?"

*This is only suspicion, Wolverine. Although there is evidence of some serious things going down, we have no way of determining who could be behind it. I'm only telling you this because I knew you would come across the information yourself; being housed with supercomputers that you scan daily, along with the most powerful telepaths in the world.*

The digital screen showed Fury's face crack a smirk at Logan's disbelieving expression, *Yes, we are very much aware of your obsession with hacking into our mainframes and rooting around our findings and logged missions. And though you're not getting anywhere near as far as those unidentified hackers have, it's still crazy to think our walls aren't as secure as we like to believe. All is well, you're just putting our technicians to the ultimate test on a regular basis - restoring our firewalls, upgrading our backup security... You're a real piece o' work, Wolverine.*

"Glad it's all fine an' dandy. Now, if ya don't mind, what about these Weapon X wannabes?"

A gruff sigh from Fury came out as a choppy crackle over the communicator. *That's all we know, so far. ...Hang on. There _is_ something else. Our techs got a link from the hackers that we just connected. There's a zipped file, but it's got about the same amount of security as ours do. We're still trying to find a way to crack it open, but so far it's a bust.*

Logan raised an eyebrow. "This file gotta name?"

*It's called 'Programme Cardinal'. I'm not going to assume that that means anything to you, right?*

"Not yet," Logan grumbled, deep in thought.

*We'll get back to you. And Logan--* Fury glared into the screen, *Stay. Put.* The screen went black.

_Programme Cardinal... Why does that sound so familiar...?_

Ugh. I knew this was gonna bug me till the cows came home, and everyone knows that that never really happens. And then, it'd prob'ly come to me at, like, two in the morning.

I paused my brief zone-out, realising that Logan had moved away from the computer, and was now headed for the door. Headed for _me._

Knowing me, I applied my Danger Room façade and started freaking out in a controlled manner; there was no way that I could get around the corner before Logan exited the room! Whipping my head around, searching for any means of escape, I noticed Kitty coming from the Dining room, whistling a tune.

"Kitty, how are you? Come here!"

"Wha--!" I grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the wall across the way from the Planning room.

"Do yer thing, gogogo!!" I said, motioning toward the wall.

"Okay..." She said, phasing through the solid wall and bringing me along with her. We ended up walking straight into the Sitting room where most of the other students were hanging out.

_Close one..._ I thought.

"What was that all about?" Kitty inquired, the hand on her right hip - dramatising her questioning expression.

I shrugged, "I didn't want somebody to see me, is all. I guess you could say I was kinda snooping around."

Kitty smiled and waved it off, "Nyeh, I wouldn't worry about it; plenty of students wander around these halls in search of undiscovered entertainment."

"Yeah, but I don't take my chances when an awkward lecture from Wolverine is on the line."

Kitty seemed to ponder over this, finally nodding in agreement. "Well, catch ya later... Actually, a few of us are heading out for a movie. You wanna come with?"

Now, I loved the idea of sitting in a dark, smelly room crammed to the gills with equally smelly strangers as much as the next happy-go-lucky mutant. But right now my mind was whirlpooling around about what I'd heard Logan and Fury go on about back in the Planning room.

_You could use the free time,_ My 'cascading mind' countered, and in the end, I just decided to go for it. However, I could just _TELL_ that this wasn't gonna leave me alone. For some reason, this 'Programme Cardinal' raised a few red flags in my head. And we all know how well things pan out when something starts out smellin' fishy around here.

***

SOMEWHERE, SOMEPLACE. (MEANWHILE)

Saturday, 4:19 pm - Genoshan Outback

In the centre of a large, medieval room sat a regal, stone throne engulfed in shadows. Upon entering the room, it was nearly impossible to tell whether it was occupied. However, each and every person that resided in the castle knew far too well to assume the room was empty. In fact, most were too afraid to even enter, fearing the worst if they were to be caught trespassing.

A single, short man stood kneeled before the invisible throne, informing its master of the events recently undergone.

In response to the message, the throne-master banged his fist onto the armrest. "I trusted those imbeciles with one thing. With one, small, little detail in my plan, and they could not so much as handle THAT. I cannot _begin_ to express my disappointment in their actions."

"I understand, sir," said the small, literally mousy mutant with grey skin, a pointed nose, and dressed in brown, ragged clothing. "It has been brought to my attention that your standard team of Acolytes was defeated within thirty-four minutes of arriving in Genosha. Much, much sooner than the time it would have taken to complete their mission to flatten the land."

As an irritated sigh emitted from the shadows, the metal adourning the stone walls and high ceilings groaned and crumpled slightly. "This is utterly unacceptable. The X-Men have foiled my plans for the last time. If I am to make this world a better place for all mutants, I require the forces necessary to assist me in accomplishing just that. What are my strongest minions?"

"Levels three to five, sir."

"Decent. Request their presence immediately."

Two minutes later, seven of the Brotherhood's most powerful mutants strode into the throne room, falling into line without needing be told. Some were new to the cause, others were more experienced in working with their master.

First in line was Quicksilver, the speedster, top of the list. Second was Pyro, the flame-manipulating mutant. Standing in third was a newbie called Kamikaze, a large, armoured man whose mutant power was to explode upon impact with another object. Fourth, Hack, an average-sized man with a power very similar to Sage's, except he also possesses telepathy. Fifth, sixth, and seventh, Deadpool, Jumper (a sort-of Teleporter), and the Scarlet Witch.

"Excellent," said the voice. "However, some of you were present at the last mission-gone-awry. Some of you were responsible..."

Pyro visibly tensed. Although he hadn't exactly cost them the win, he wasn't one of the few who put up a fight. It was believed within the Brotherhood that Pyro might have been the one to tip the scales. But, being the first to go down without dealing much damage, he was promptly being excluded by the others day after day.

"That being said, said Acolytes will receive severe training against one another before your redemption is even _considered._ The rest of you, you are dismissed to prepare for our next strike. Leave my presence."

Each Acolyte turned and made their way out of the throne room, some rolling their eyes at the apparent pointlessness of their momentary gathering. Once all of them had gone, the mousy man returned to his post, kneeling down and awaiting instruction.

"Is there anything else, sir?"

The voice hesitated, in thought. Finally, "Yes."

A shifting noise sounded from the shadows, and suddenly the man to whom the voice belonged emerged from the dark. The mousy mutant scurried back a bit in surprise, but kneeled once again an instant later. Coming into the light, the man sneered at the small mutant and proceeded to walk past him to the large, open stone window that overlooked extensive green land.

"I need you to arrange a notice for my foes, the X-Men. Make it simple, make it clear, but no too obvious. Charles Xavier is much too intelligent, and will not fall for an apparent trap."

"Sir?"

"I need something to draw them to Genosha again for my victory over its people. To have conquered all of this tiny country despite a battle with the world's strongest will bring more honour than if there were to be none. You are dismissed."

The mouse-like mutant hesitated, but fell back nonetheless, scurrying off and out of the room, leaving the man to glare out the window...

Magneto.

"Ahh... Soon, my friends, this leaderless island will belong to me, and I shall build upon it a new civilisation. A civilisation created solely for the superiour species, and all will fall into place after that momentous victory. Hear this, X-Men: This is a battle you shan't walk away from, I promise you that."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Nightmare Overflow

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK. (ABOUT AN HOUR LATER)

Saturday, 5:23 - NeoPlace Theatre

Rifles were snapping loudly as their bullets released in a rapid flurry. Dozens of clips were clattering to the ground as the bearers replaced them for new ones. People were screaming all around the small battlefield, running around with their arms thrown over their heads, trying to escape the flurry of gunshots that ricocheted off of everything.

All in all, a pretty familiar scene. Every event that took place in this movie was experienced by at least a hundred mutants everywhere. Some of whom I had the honour of knowing.

I sat slumped in the rock-hard theatre seat, my feet sticking to the nasty floors to the point where I had to remove my shoes and pry them off occasionally. I rested my elbow on the left armrest, my ear on my hand. I couldn't help but think about the words exchanged between Logan and that general guy. Majour power drainage? Experimental training facility? For some reason, the term 'Programme Cardinal' had some significance to me, but I had no idea why.

I began mulling over my past life before I came to the Institute. Sure, it was more than a while back, but maybe by running over some previous memories, I could try to come up with something in reference to Programme Cardinal.

I thought as far back as I could, but the furthest memory I could come up with was just a nightmare I'd had back when I was eleven or so. Nothing too dramatic, but in my dream, I was sitting all alone in a huge, white room. Computer monitors and beeping scanners littered a large desk against the far wall. I looked around to find that I was attached via a wad of tubes to the machines across the way. I also realised that I was bound by my wrists to a reclined metal chair. I tried to lift my head, only to find that it, too, was held down by cables.

Suddenly, the door to my right slid open by means of its automated system, and two men emerged. One had on a lab coat and black gloves, the other looked like he could be in the military - crewcut hair, patches and stars above his left chest pocket, and a very straight posture with his hands held behind his back.

"And you've double-checked your readings?" The military guy asked the man in the lab coat.

Labcoat nodded vigourously, "Yes, sir. Triple-checked. The treatment given to the subject contained a vast amount of the chemical, designed to activate her regenerative purpose. However, it's just not showing up on the tests."

"So she cannot heal quickly. Pity. I was hoping her to be our finest. An A-grade, indestructible weapon."

"Actually," the Labcoat began, "although her regeneration could not be enhanced, she does seem to have a certain degree of invulnerability."

Military-man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... Interesting. Perhaps she may be of use after all. And the others?"

"Not so much. Experiment 392 seems to be the only one capable of withstanding impacts of certain levels... Number 364, however, has shown signs of enhanced strength. Is that of interest to you?"

"We'll certainly see. Have your men bring him in."

"In here?"

"Of course, you idiot. Should I have to walk all the way across the facility once more to pick him up myself?"

In my dream, I was barely conscious, hanging on solely to the knowledge that if I were to fall asleep, a much worse nightmare was sure to follow. This wasn't as bad as I knew it could be, so I kept myself awake.

Minutes later, a second reclined gurney was wheeled in, occupied by a boy of about my age, dark hair was plastered to his forehead by the sweat that gleamed on his tan(ish) skin. He was awake and seemed to be straining against the binds that held his arms and legs to the bed. I guessed that this must've been 364, but I wasn't sure. In my dream, I seemed to know him, to know his name, but was too far gone to really recognise who he was.

Military-man neared the boy's face, smiling sadistically into his dark eyes. "Why, hello there, Experiment 364. How are you doing with the little cage with which we accommodated you? I hear you've been extra resistant even since then. Is there anything you request to put you at ease?"

364 spat into the man's face, "Bite me."

Wiping the saliva from his eye, Military-man scowled and stood straight once more. He paced in front of 364 as he spoke, "I was hoping that we could persuade you to assist us voluntarily. Or at least without so much resistance. Take 392 for example..."

All eyes turned to where I lay back. Even 364 looked over - as far as his restraints allowed his neck - looking me dead in the eye. Seeing I was awake, Military-man smiled at me, then returned his attention to 364.

"Well?" He prompted.

364's frown deepened, and there was a spark of emotion in his eyes as he looked at me, "My God..." I heard him mutter a name, but too low for me to hear. "She's your robot. What you're doing to her - to the rest of us - is wrong! It's inhuman!"

"Indeed... But you are likewise. I'm simply directing and funding your training, so that you may have better purpose in this world."

"I swear, by all that's fair in this goddamn excuse for life, I'll get them all out of here and KILL YOU!!" 364's wrists finally snapped the ties around them, as well as the ones across his feet. In an instant, he'd pushed off the bed and threw himself at the military man. A dozen security guys came rushing in a moment later, trying in vain to stun the boy with their tasers.

Military-man had managed to throw 364 off of him, but the kid was far from discouraged to attack again. His supposed 'super-strength' became evident as he reached out for the guard about to stun him, and flung him by the waist at the Labcoat, thereby creating a domino effect that sent the rest of the men toppling over into one another.

364 ran to my side and gripped the leather wrist restraints, he tore them off before the guards could recover. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me up.

"C'mon! Let's go. There's not much time!" He screamed at me.

I didn't move. I simply sat there, dazed at what was happening around me at a blurring pace.

Suddenly, three of the guards were on top of him, pinning him to the linoleum floor while the Military-man/Director and Labcoat righted themselves, dusting their lapels.

"Run!" 364 was yelling at me, "Run, Em! There's no time! Just get out of here, now!!"

I remembered him refer to me as Em, but the name - whether an acronym or such - didn't have any significance to me. I still didn't move from the bed I sat up in. The boy pleaded with me even as the guards crushed his torso into the hard ground. The Director guy approached me, and stuck me with a needle of some kind. Seconds later, staring at the injection site on my arm, I became dizzy, the words being spoken and yelled around me began slurring into an incoherent jumble of noises... until everything went black.

That was all I remembered from that nightmare. In fact, I think that that's even where I woke up. I think it's safe to say that I was a little more than freaked that I remembered it so vividly.

I came back to my senses when Jamie elbowed me, whispering, "Great graphics, huh??" I have no idea how he got invited. Much less why I got seated next to him. He was only a couple of years younger than me, but he was every bit as annoying as the five-year-old that kept throwing popcorn at whoever got up to pee.

"Yeah, Jamie, amazing," I patronised. I gave him an encouraging look that he must've mistook for sarcasm, because he suddenly looked confused and asked me seriously:

"Hey, are you okay? You seem a little... tense. Are you still having those nightmares?"

Good God! Did _everybody_ know about my dreams?? And more, this has got to be the last person I would've picked outta a crowd of my most distant friends to talk to! Seriously.

"No, Jamie. I'm fine. Let's just enjoy the movie," I responded, taking a deep breath.

He shrugged and turned back to the giant screen, leaving me to roll my eyes and sink my head back against the seat.

***

When we finally returned to the Institute, we opened the front doors to find Logan being hurled through a doorway and across the front room. Piotr emerged from that doorway an instant later, armoured-up and approaching Wolverine as he got back to his feet. Colossus rushed him, crashed head-first into the shorter man's torso, and sent the both of them into the next room and out of further sight.

Kitty commented moments later, "Well, that was random." She then headed her own way up the stairway to the dormitories. Everyone else followed, including myself.

I was feeling extremely depressed about how I couldn't seem to remember more. I mean, how long were these stupid nightmares supposed to last before they finally gave up and saw how miserable I already was? This, of course, is me speaking as if unconscious projections of my own imagination could think like the human mind. You don't need to say it, I know I'm an idiot.

I entered my bedroom and closed the door softly behind me, walked over to my bed and flopped onto my back, turning over to bury my face into my pillow seconds later.

Millions of thoughts were having a party in my head already. I opened my eyes to find that from my position on the bed, I had a near-perfect view of the Institute grounds. My particular window overlooked the miles and miles of beautiful green meadowland that stretched on into the clear horizon. I smiled sadly at the scenery, wondering why in the world something had to look so perfect and make me smile when I was feeling so darn crummy. Nature's screwed up way of making me look at the bright side, I guess.

But I just couldn't repress the nagging hermit in me -- the one that had manifested thanks to my life on my own -- wanting nothing to do with the sunny, friendly day that everybody else was wasting their time enjoying. And eventually, I turned away from it, making myself stare at the wall instead.

There had to be some way to regain what I'd lost all those years ago. I knew I had a past - heck, my _name_ was an example of it. It was the only thing I remembered about my 'life' before I had to survive on the streets of New York. Three years ago, max'mum. It killed me more than ever now that, according to my brain, I didn't have a life before then.

A firm knock on my door managed to pull me out of my reveries.

I waited a few seconds without answering, thinking that maybe if I didn't respond, the person on the other side would take the hint and leave me alone to deal with all the crap shooting me in the head.

A soft 'chik-chak' sounded as the door was opened and closed again. I stuffed my face back into my pillow with a muffled sigh.

"I forgot to lock it."

A chuckle. "I woulda broke it down. You simply saved this place some renovations," Wolverine commented, taking a seat at the end of my bed, not bothering to care where my feet were.

"I'm a hero," I deadpanned.

I peeked out of a crease in my pillowcase to find Logan frowning in disappointment. He said, "What's botherin' ya, kid? These little meetings of ours've got a bit o' value, don't you agree? May as well make 'em fruitful."

"How do you know when I'm feeling my worst? You always seem to appear outta nowhere when I lock myself in my room."

"It's instincts, pun'kin. Nobody else shuts 'emselves in their rooms in the middle o' the day. Plus, you do this often enough, and I've been right every other time. I've learned to keep an eye on yer whereabouts so as to be there when I need ta."

I smiled into my pillow, trying to remember all those months ago when I'd first found this place and was going out of my way to get on this guy's nerves. Now, it seemed like he was the closest person I had to family around here. Sure, the other students had become best friends to me; I couldn't love them any more than I already did, but Logan just had a certain quality to him that set him apart from the rest of the lot. Perhaps it was the fact that he remembered about as much of his past as I did about my own? Maybe I was just clinging to the only person that might actually understand my position and thoughts.

I retreated from my feathery hiding place and sat up next to him. "I appreciate that," I said. "You sure you wanna enter the tsunami that is my inner thoughts?"

"There ain't no other kind o' thoughts, but that's what I'm here for, kiddo. An' all this came about from going to the movies?"

"Well, I wasn't really watching the movie..."

Logan smirked, "Well, who was the lucky bastard? I'll tear 'im limb from limb."

I suddenly smiled, taking a second to be slow before I caught his drift. I laughed, "No, that's not what I meant. Besides, I got put next to Jamie. Anyway, I sort of flashed back to my nightmares while the show was playing. I couldn't believe the stuff that I saw..."

I told Logan everything. My confusion, my lack of memory prior to a few years ago, my nightmares and what they consisted of... even my anger at myself for not caring when I had the chance. All the while, Logan stared at the floor, obviously thinking hard on the matter. Every now and then, a little spark'd appear in his eye, indicating that he'd heard it somewhere before.

"I don't really know what to do," I admitted finally. "They come every single night. I'm going crazy! I can manage freakin' exploding powers, beat the living crap outta megalomaniacs on a daily basis, and even withstand the impact of over a hundred metric tons moving at 160, but I can't keep myself from falling apart over stupid dreams!"

"I know what you mean, kid. I can't explode anything by unnatural means, but the rest I can pretty much relate to."

"You had unexplainable nightmares?"

"I _have_ unexplainable nightmares. 'Cept mine are a result of my past; they ain't really dreams at all--" Logan got detached look on his face. He glanced at me, looking me straight in the eye before standing abruptly and heading for the door.

"Something wrong?" I asked nervously.

Logan just said over his shoulder, "Yeah. I gotta look into somethin' real quick. Hope you feel better, pun'kin." And he was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Genosha Bound ...Again

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK. (THAT NIGHT)

Sunday, 3:54 am - Dormitories

The whole scene appeared to me as if I were crossing my eyes. Everything was doubled and unfocussed, swirling around in motions that made me want to throw up. And it didn't help that I had the mother of all headaches.

I rubbed my eyes and opened them again, hoping to make some sense of things. Gradually, my vision began clearing up, but it didn't help at all to make anything more understandable. From what I was seeing, I was lying on the floor of a room surrounded by white walls and pipes that dripped fluid in unison.

"The hell...?"

I could see now that I wasn't the only person in this room. Over to my left was the boy who'd caused all the action in that laboratory. 364, or something? He was breathing harshly from his position leaning against the wall. His wrists and ankles were held in place by heavy metal brackets that were thick as... something very thick. His head was hanging against his chest, his dark, 'flippy' hair hiding his closed eyes. He was wearing a light-grey jumper with a flap that overlaid to his right shoulder and buttoned so as to hold it there. There were belt-loops at his waist, but no belt, and his pantlegs barely covered his bare feet.

I looked down to notice that I, too, was wearing a grey jumper, except mine was more fitted to accommodate my slighter figure. My usually tied-back hair was loose and fell in dark tendrils over my shoulders and in front of my face. I had no shoes on, either. Bummer. Although I guess it didn't really matter; there was no discernable means of escape from this room.

_I'm sure I can find a way out and get the heck outta... wherever 'here' is,_ I thought to myself with conviction.

I spotted an air circulation vent behind a metal utensil shelf on the other side of the room. Grinning to myself, I approached it on my knees and felt the edge of it for a loose section. I found none, but pulled and yanked on the dang thing for a good five minutes before trying to kick it in.

"You'll break your foot."

I twisted around at the sound of a voice behind me. It was the boy, he was awake now, and was looking at me through considerate brown eyes. I looked back at the vent's thin slats, then to the sole of my bare foot that bore new slices. I hadn't been thinking about the pain the vent had been causing my foot, only that freedom from this strange place was a few millimetres of metal away.

"Em, you've tried that before," the boy said to me.

As with all my other dreams, the name struck no familiarity to me.

"What?" I said in a whisper.

"They drugged you with something. Do you know who I am?" he asked with hasty intrigue.

I wanted to say that I did. He was so familiar. It was almost as if I'd known him all my life, but I just couldn't get my thoughts straight, and before I knew it... I heard Scott Summers' voice piercing through my head.

"Zakzakzakzak...!"

"Zakzakzakzak...!"

***

"Zak!"

I awoke from the dream with a start. Thank God that it hadn't been a true nightmare that time, but it still shook me to no end. It had felt so real... almost as if I'd actually been there before.

I lifted my face from my pillow to find myself lying at the foot of my bed. I inclined my head even more to see Cyclops, along with Kitty and Kurt standing beside my bed.

"Hey, guys... 'mornin'," I slurred before surrendering to a wide yawn.

"The Professor wants us in the Planning room, something about a hostile takeover," Scott explained.

Wonderful. This was supposed to be my sleep-in-till-whenever-I-wake-up morning. Good dreams die hard, and I was in no mood, thanks to last night. Without a word, I got up and closed myself in the bathroom for a few minutes, only to return fully showered, dressed, moderately hygienic, and ready for whatever the Prof had to throw at us.

***

"--then you'll be thrown out of the jet at precisely one hundred-sixty miles per hour, to free fall above the main shoreline bordering the canyon trenches. Any questions?"

Naturally, this sent the little red flags up in my head. I raised my hand, "Uh, yeah, _thrown?"_ I inquired hesitantly. "Not that I'm complaining. But, shouldn't there be certain safety protocols pertaining to a... well, _safer_ manner of descent onto the craggy remains of a historic _warground?"_

The Professor smiled, "Well, we wouldn't want our foe - my old friend - to use our _metal_ Blackbird against us and diminish any means of escape, now would we? That aside, as I recall, we no longer posses the privilege of simply landing the jet along the restricted sidelines of the city."

"Yes. Let _zat_ live for ever," Nightcrawler muttered from his position above us all, hanging by his tail off the ceiling lights.

Apparently, after receiving a telepathic distress call from some unknown source, the Professor had contacted Scott and Wolverine with a warning that havoc was stirring once more in Genosha. Using Cerebro, the Professor had determined that it was not only the Brotherhood, but Magneto as well. And not the whack-job/weirdoes who dress up like him and run the streets on Second Avenue occasionally. I mean the 'real deal' whack-job/weirdo. He's got the dorky helmet and everything. Anyway, he was last detected dispersing his lackeys thought a number of the city's streets. Whatever. I was still pissed about all my frickin' nightmares, not to mention, all those words exchanged between Logan and that Fury guy. Needless to say, I was feeling a little bloodthirsty. Our mission was to get there before things got out of hand, and at least try to figure out what the guy was after.

And to be careful...

Yeah, right.

***

Ten minutes later, we had boarded the X-Jet and were Genosha bound, arriving at our destination forty-five minutes later. In order to pilot the jet after we'd jumped, Beast had accompanied me, Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Shadowcat, Iceman, Colossus, Wolverine and Tag -- or Brian Cruz -- I'd known him since I got to the Institute so we work pretty well together. Anyway, as we approached the point above the rocky terrain, we all lined up by the emergency door near the back. I had gotten there first, and was more than pleased to be the one to throw myself to certain death before anyone else.

Just ending it all here and being done with it?

I wasn't even aware that I was smiling until I'd already begun my free fall.

Plummeting head-first toward the craggy ground, I looked to my left to find Kitty and Bobby descending beside eachother, (and wasn't sure whether it was Kitty who was scared enough to take a buddy, or the other way around. Funny thought; I'd bring it up later.) Cyclops was directly above them, followed by Colossus (armoured-down). Kurt, Wolverine, and Tag were to my right, looking for all like they'd done this a million times in their sleep. Perhaps with Kurt, it was because he could teleport right at the last second. Or Logan could just become a crater and then heal minutes later.

And while we all had parachutes, some of us had decided to return to Earth the old fashioned way. Since Logan could survive the drop, he'd decided to 'fly' solo and just jump. Nobody knew, but I'd decided long ago that I, too, would disregard the 'chute. Since I was virtually invulnerable, I planned to force myself to withstand the impact and hit the ground running - show myself what I'm _really_ made of. And hopefully everybody else.

The ground grew closer until it was time for me to level out in order to land on my feet. With an impact of some metric number I'm not even sure of and don't care about, I slammed into the rocky earth, running some before somersaulting to break the rest of my fall and slow my momentum. I was still running by the time I saw the others slowly floating to the ground by means of their 'chutes. Slowing down to a halt, I watched as Cyclops touched down, released the straps from his pack, and began stalking toward me.

_Great..._ I thought, mentally rolling my eyes.

"Well, that was impressive. You managed to make us all see you in a new light: dangerous and _STUPID_. The next time you fail to deploy your parachute, you'd better be prepared to never see it again." he crossed his arms at me.

"Let's not do this right now, Cykes. You wouldn't _dream_ of telling Wolverine off like this. I can withstand the impact; I'm freakin' invulnerable!" I snapped back. Turning back toward the city - our destination - I threw over my shoulder, "Can you drop the Alpha-Leader crap and let us just get on with the mission? If there were a bigger waste of time..."

I could practically _feel_ Scott's eye burning a hole in the back of my head as I and the rest of the X-Men present tore off toward the city. But when we made it to the border, we all stopped dead. There, atop the largest building that overlooked the entire city, floated Magneto, in all his cape-and-boots glory. He was using his formidable magnetic manipulation to levitate himself above the massive crowd of Genoshans, all of whom were gathered and staring up at him captivatingly. He was shouting something that seemed unintelligible until we got closer. It was then that we heard his every word clearly.

"Inferiour Homo Sapiens! I have paid visit to your quaint city to inform you personally, that I have decided your country worthy of my rulership, once more. Indeed, I opt to seize control over each and every asset, including your very freedom. Those who dare oppose me will be put up for open execution by my Brotherhood--" Right on cue, several mutants involved with Magneto emerged on the roof of the tall building behind their leader. All wore their respective costumes, some were recognised by the X-Men. "--Those who choose to surrender, I praise your wisdom now. You will be spared as slaves to my upcoming populous."

The other X-Men and I were glaring in disgust at the madman floating far above our heads. It was apparent that the crowd gathered was holding back their disbelief, although it was clearly present on each of their faces. At one point during Magneto's speech, a few mutants opposed to his views flew into the air and attempted to blast him down with their similar fire powers, only to be shot down in a black, cloudy blaze by one of Magneto's men, Aurox, who possessed the power to sicken people by emitting a black puff of smoke around them, also temporarily cloaking their powers.

Magneto scowled at the disruptment. "A shame," he said. "A brilliant fraction of evolution first-hand, wasted by momentary foolishness. I shall inform you all that, Homo Superiour or otherwise, if you choose to turn the other cheek, you will condemn yourself to whatever fate my followers see fit."

_Or entertaining, right?_ I thought dryly.

I was feeling like hanging this crackhead out to dry, myself... until I felt this uneasy nagging at the front of my mind. Recognising the tickle immediately as my premonition, I turned around to see Logan and Colossus sneaking away like the discreet little mice they are. Dropping all instinct and orders, I quietly backed up until I was behind all the other X-Men listening to Magneto's speech. Watching our two biggest hitters disappear behind a squat building, I was about to follow, when Cyclops whispered to us all:

"Okay, here's the gameplan. Nightcrawler's gonna 'port Tag and Enigma to the roof of the structure directly beside Magneto's location, where they'll await further orders from me via their communicators." He eyed us three. "Me, Iceman, and... Where's Wolverine?" Everyone looked around themselves, noticing for themselves that Logan had disappeared. "And where's Colossus, for that matter?"

Scott obviously noticed that I wasn't searching, and raised an eyebrow at me. I mirrored the expression and simply shrugged.

Sighing, Cykes went on with, "Okay, so minus our physical manpower, I suppose that leaves me, Bobby, and Kitty to attempt a frontal approach."

"'Scuse me, but isn't that generally suicide?" inquired Brian with a look of bewilderment.

Scott crossed his arms. "I think you've confused our purple-caped foe with a nuke-bomb."

"I'm under the impression that you _haven't,"_ I shot. "when you _should."_

"You wanna bump in here and give the orders Enigma?" Cykes countered hotly. "Perhaps run the show, as you so clearly desire?" I turned red. It was evident that I wasn't going to hear the end of the whole parachute incident. "I'm just about sick and tired of you thinking you have the authority to call me out. This is just like our mission in Jersey. And New Orleans. _And_ Washington. You get hotheaded and start believing you can control this team."

Now, where the hell _that_ came from, I'll never know. I wasn't _that_ pushy, was I? _Nah..._ _Clearly, someone's just suffering from Ten-Minutes-Away-From-My-Better-Half Syndrome._ I thought to myself, thinking about Scott's attitude when Jean wasn't around to fall all over him.

I tried to level my tone. I didn't know how it would come out, but anything was better than the tone that was going off in my head. "I'm not trying to run anything, _Cykes._ You're the head-honcho, the boss-man, the alpha-whatever-the-hell-you-want-to-be. All I'm saying is that it's stupid on your part to underestimate this headcase, and everyone here expects you to know that. Why can't you just get off your high-horse long enough to hear us little people?"

Sh*t, was I gonna pay for _that_ later. Regardless, it was true.

Cyclops looked like he just ran ten laps; his face was redder than any Hick-Ville metaphor could ever describe. A few of the teammates were looking from me to Cykes, wondering what would go down next. Others had awkwardly taken interest in their boots or hands, quietly indicating their similar thoughts.

Surprisingly, instead of blowing a fuse like everyone probably thought, Scott took a deep breath and changed the subject. "We'll discuss this later. We have a mission right now, and I think it's most important that we focus on accomplishing it. So now, with Logan and Piotr MIA, plans are changing. Nightcrawler, 'port yourself, Tag, and Enigma up to the roof beside the building the Brotherhood's on and stay hidden. When the time comes, Zak, I want you to distract Magneto by exploding something on his person." I had some wild thoughts pertaining to what object on his person to which he could possibly be referring. "Nothing drastic," Cyclops emphasised. "Just enough to divert his attention from me, Kitty, and Iceman while we try to mesh into the crowd. I'm going to have to announce our presence to Magneto--"

"Why would we alert him that we're here?" Bobby inquired. "Wouldn't it be more effective to take him by surprise? I mean, he's got a whole army up there."

"As a matter of fact, it wouldn't," Scott stated. There's no way we could rush him from his position above the ground. That's probably why he chose to levitate himself."

"You think he expects us?" I asked.

"I think it's safer to assume that he does. Anyway, when Kitty, Bobby and I are in position and I call out, Tag, it's gonna be your job to somehow get to Magneto and mark him with a psionic signal to _repel_ the crowd. There's no way they're all going to listen to us, especially with him threatening them, so you're going to have to give them all a little incentive."

Tag nodded his affirmation.

Scott went on, "Once the crowd's outta the way, we'll have a clear battlefield and a hell of a lotta reason to fight, so be on your toes and don't be afraid to ask for help. We ready? Alright, move out."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Foes and Failure

GENOSHA. (MOMENTS LATER)

Sunday, 10:54 am - City Square

Tag linked arms with Nightcrawler while I took his hand. And before we disappeared, I coulda swore I saw him smile a bit. Anyway, we reappeared on the rooftop in a puff of smelly, orange smoke that no one ever really got used to. Kurt looked beat already, most probably from all the extra weight he had to teleport, but Tag and I were immediately diving for the edge of the roof in order to focus the plan.

From our position, we could look over the ledge of the building and see the main structure slightly to our left. The Brotherhood - along with many more unfamiliar faces now involved with Magneto - stood poised and alert, as if they were prepared to attack anything at any given moment.

_That's kind of unusual,_ I mused. _Normally, you could find Blob chewing on something or Pyro digging for gold. Guess they decided to suck it up for their reputation's sake._

Not that they'd be taking such a big step back.

Magneto was directly before us, holding himself in mid-air with his arms outstretched and his chin held high as he went on and on and on... He wasn't that far from our building; I could possible flick a rock at him if I had the time. God knows I had the temerity.

Once Cyclops contacted us on Tag's communicator, giving me the go-ahead, I carefully reached out my hand and focussed hard on Magneto's helmet. Small paffs of aqua-blue colour began to snap and crackle as the energy laced through the molecules of his helmet slowly started superheating. The magnetic super villain halted his speech abruptly, and he whipped his head around, no doubt searching for the source of his assault.

Even whilst concentrating on Magneto, out of the corner of my eye I saw Cyclops, Shadowcat, and Iceman dart for the crowd. I mentally rolled my eyes at the futility of Scott's plan; wearing their distinct X-Men uniforms amongst an audience of poorly-dressed foreigners, it wasn't as if they had a hope in hell at blending in. Hopefully Cykes'd announce us quickly and before anyone up on the main roof could call us out.

"Who _dares_ attack me??" Magneto ranted. Even though his helmet was now beginning to glow aqua with the heat I was applying, he didn't make any attempt to remove it. "Show yourself or suffer the consequences, you fool!!"

"Well, here we are, Magneto!" We heard Cykes call out from below. "And this time you've gone too far! This land - this country - doesn't belong to you!"

Magneto laughed outright. "Not yet, dear boy, but patience is key. Might I say, you and your X-Men made good time. However, while I expected to see you here, no doubt, I can't say I commend Charles on his decision to hold Jean in reserve, as well as Storm. Perhaps he wills them to fight another day?"

"We're plenty, Magneto, to bring you down. In fact, I think we might actually surprise you..."

At that moment, Brian ran and threw himself off the rooftop. Everything seemed to move in slow-motion as he flew threw the air with his arm outstretched, ready to high-five the back of Magneto's head.

"Tag! You're _it!!"_ he yelled as he came within inches from contact with Magneto.

At that instant, out of nowhere, we saw Wolverine soaring through the sky toward our magnetic foe, claws unsheathed. Colossus became visible from where we first saw Logan appear, and it became evident that he'd ordered a fastball special. In an instant of horror for us spectators, Wolverine was moving to fast through the air to change direction, and he ended up reaching Magneto before Tag could. His claws snagged the purple-clad villain's cape, dragging him down to the Earth, and leaving Brian to wave around wildly as he free fell.

_Sh*t!! _THAT_ wasn't supposed to happen!_ I panicked mentally.

I jumped to my feet, but before I could do anything heroic, Kurt shoved by me and vanished a second later. The next instant, he appeared beside Brian, hugged him close, and 'ported away again before either of them reached the ground.

"Oi! Going somewhere, poppet?" I heard an obnoxious accent from behind me. I whirled around to find five or six grinning Acolytes standing around with Toad in the lead.

"How considerate," I chided. "I thought I was gonna have'ta _find_ some bozos to take out my aggression on. Turns out, they deliver."

I lunged at the nearest mutant, releasing the serrated scythes on the sides of my gauntlets and swiping my arms at them when I got a good chance.

"Heeey! This one's got the fire in 'er!" swooned an Acolyte with long, spiky black hair. He ignited his whole body with what looked to be white fire. "You like it? It's a hot gas--"

"Betcha get all kindsa cracks 'bout _that._" I smirked.

I nearly burst out laughing when I saw his face and how much my comment seemed to irk him. Suddenly, that look of disgruntlement turned to rage as he sent the hot air off his arms in tubes toward me, swinging them around and using them like flexible swords. I dove and rolled to avoid getting whapped by the steaming gases, which only served to put me into a point of disadvantage. With me on the ground, two other mutants rushed toward me with literal knives. I assumed they were related somehow since they both possessed six arms each.

Once again, I released the scythes on my arms and countered each strike, managing to slice a few deep cuts into a few of their arms. I spun on my heel and superheated the energy within Gas-Man's hot air tentacles. He waved his hands around in panic before the explosion caught him full in the face, throwing him into the ledge of the roof, where he recovered minutes later.

In that few minutes, I'd caught Toad's tongue in my hand (much to my repulsion), and got a face fulla the rank bile he'd spat at me.

"Ugh!" I released his tongue, swiping wildly at my face in an attempt to clear it of the sticky mess. Once I'd wiped enough away, I barely had time to take a breath as another Acolyte came at me with spikes protruding from his skin like some human porcupine.

I had to admit it here, this was becoming too much to handle. I had no idea where the other X-Men were, whether or not Brian was okay, or if Magneto was taken care of yet. All I knew was, I was seriously outnumbered and losing my focus, quick.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge crushed car came flying over the ledge and took out my adversaries, crashing them into the metal wall that stood over by the other edge of the roof. For a moment, I just stood, dumbfounded.

"Looks like you gotta little someone looking out for you down there," chuckled Toad as he and most of the others began to return to their feet. "You're needin' all the help you can get, eh?"

_Hell no, he didn't..._ I scowled. The last person who judged my competence ended up with a bloody nose and a two-day hospital stay. And that was only when I decided to try out public school.

I took a strong stance, held my arms out in front of me, and splayed my fingers. I was concentrating hard on the metal wall, harder than I ever had, until it started glowing so bright, I had to look away. In a blinding flash of light, I heard the wall combust, and felt my feet leave the ground. I opened my eyes to see my surroundings rushing upward. Holy-- I was actually falling! Like, _off the building!!_ I couldn't see any of the Acolytes, nothing but glowing shrapnel and huge chunks of cement.

I wasn't slow to realise that there was no way I was going to be rescued like Brian had been. I turned my head and saw the ground approaching fast. Biting my lip, I braced myself for impact.

Hitting the ground was less shocking than I thought it would be. I guess I expected to break my back or something. Or at least feel pain. Rather, it was like I blacked out before I hit the asphalt, because the next time I opened my eyes, I found myself in a small crater at the base of the building I'd just exploded. Ha, I didn't even know I weighed that much. ...These are the jokes, people.

_Nnn... I can't feel my arms... Oh, wait... Yeah, I can,_ I thought blandly as I tried to regain my bearings.

I heard Scott yelling from a distance, and looked up from my little hole in the ground to see a blurred image of Magneto standing in the middle of the crowd (that was now bustling around and screaming for their lives), and Wolverine suspended in the air before him. It didn't take a genius to know what was going on, especially with Logan visibly struggling against the magnetic mutant's grip. I rose to my elbows and assessed the damage to myself - no broken bones, plenty of tears and scuffs on my uniform, and one broken Carbonadium boot. Great.

I just needed a few seconds to get myself together before I went all ninja on these freaks.

"There're too many!!" Bobby screamed as he iced four mutants together. "They're coming off the building in _sheets!"_

I looked up at the main structure to see what he meant. Never, in all my time as an X-Man, had I seen anything quite like the scene before me. Dozens of Acolytes were jumping off the rooftop, landing behind Magneto as an enormous army.

_Crap,_ I mentally cursed. Even _I_ knew that this was a battle we'd most likely not walk away from smiling.

Nevertheless, Cyclops was doing all he could to lead us to victory. As tons of Acolytes were still pouring off the building, Scott turned his visor on full-blast, and ripped a new floor into the structure. That apartment house or City Hall, or whatever, was now a few stories fewer, and many of Magneto's followers had gone down with it.

Okay, enough playing hooky. With renewed strength, I climbed out of my hole (now christened Zak's Crater, by me, of course) and cracked my neck, prepared more than ever to add my two cents to this thing. Everyone that had been present in the audience was now screaming their heads off, running around in circles, the whole shebang. I suppose it's their job, really. I mean, what else is a crowd of defenseless people gonna do with dozens of nutcases running around wreaking havoc? Some of the Genoshans were mutants, but that didn't seem to stop their fear... That's kinda sad.

Colossus and Iceman were holding their own against more Brotherhood bozos than I could count from where I stood. I ran up to them promptly.

"Need a little assistance?" I yelled over the commotion.

Piotr did his thing where he nodded only once. "Are you ahlright? We saw the explohsion, but couldn't lohcate you." He flipped an Acolyte over his metallic shoulder.

"Yeah, I got a little tied up." I grunted as I roundhoused some telekinetic in the jaw. "Anyway, it looks like you guys got this. I'm gonna go see if my services are needed elsewhere."

"Good luck," Bobby said before icepunching another mutant.

Cyclops was standing like a statue a couple yards from Magneto, who still held Logan's Adamantium skeleton in his control. Wolverine was grunting in pain as the Master of Magnetism stiffened his bones. There was nothing Scott could do without hitting Logan, too, and Kurt and Brian were still nowhere to be seen. I absently wondered where they could possibly be.

"Wolverine, how you _do_ surprise me with your evident lack of logic," Magneto shook his head. "For every encounter of ours, you always seem to end up at my mercy."

"You think *grunt* you got me-- bub?" Logan sneered.

Magneto had no change of heart. Rather, he glared daggers at Wolverine, cracking a small smirk at his writhing prisoner, "Well, what do you possibly plan to do about this? It's not as if you posses the ability to learn a lesson. Clearly." he constricted his grip, forcing a growl from Logan as his metal bones went rigid.

Mad as I was at this sight, Magneto kind of had a point about Logan's lesson-learning skills.

It's cool, I get it - not the time.

I had millions of scenarios running through my head, but none that could have any effect without somehow having the tables turned on us. I was completely out of ideas when I saw a shadow emerge from behind Magneto. A large grin broke out on mine and Cykes' faces as we noticed Kitty silently rise from the asphalt and reach for the super villain's shoes. Quickly, she grabbed his ankles and drug him below the surface of the ground, forcing him to cry out, release his grasp on Logan, and sink to his neck.

Alright, Kitty! She reemerged seconds later, grinning smartly. And she deserved to.

"Foolish child..."

Oh, schnapps... That's a little unnerving... Magneto's usual fowl-and-scowl expression had dissipated as fast as it had shown up. We looked on in disbelief as the ground around the Master of Magnetism crumbled and shook. I think the most surprised was Kitty as random pebbles and pieces of gravel merged together to form a shell around Magneto.

Laughing in that special little cliché 'maniacal mastermind' way of his, Magneto rose from the ground in what looked to be a beaten-down, iron sarcophagus. The metal cracked and fell around him at his command, leaving him a free man to boast on his glory.

_What the..._

Magneto continued to chortle away. "Oh, my dear Kitty-cat--" Kitty blinked at the nickname. "There is metal in places you couldn't _imagine._" As if in demonstration, the super villain clenched his fist, ready to take yet another substance under his control, but I was quicker.

I took hold of the energy within his helmet, yet again, as much as I could grasp, and heated it to a searing degree, ready to let go, and let it combust. Magneto's head whipped toward me, glaring through my eyes and into my soul, it seemed... Just plain creepy.

"Enough is enough," I seethed. It was one thing to boast unearned greatness, another to single us each out and pin us into his mercy. "You make one move, and I _accidentally_ lose my focus."

"You think you're going to... what? Blow my head off?"

I shrugged, "Think of it this way: Your neck will enjoy a newfound pleasant breeze, and nobody will have to look at that stupid helmet again and pretend to feel intimidated."

Magneto smirked. "That is not an act, my dear. That is fear."

"Sure, and they're laughing _with_ you, not _at_ you. Do you even _have_ the Internet? You know what they say 'bout you on there? Let me tell you, things get pretty crazy. I remember seeing this one guy's opinion about you on TouYube, and -- heheh -- well, you gotta understand, this guy's a real piece'a--"

I gasped in surprise as I suddenly lost control of my arms. The identical scythes on the inside of my gauntlets popped open, and my arms were wrenched together to cross above my chest with each serrated blade positioned on either side of my neck. I still hadn't lost concentration on his helmet however...

Waitaminute! Both of my arms had become otherwise occupied, and yet the energy I was heating was still under my control?? Wow. This was something to tell Beast. Maybe there was more to my powers than I realised. Like, maybe I didn't need to use my hands at all when I wanted to blow something up.

To press the point I was mulling over in my head, I concentrated harder on the energy within the helmet, forcing it to get hotter and hotter, but not to combust just yet. After all, I had two knives to my throat. Two knives that, ironically, I'd just sharpened last night. Just another little demonstration of my brilliance.

"Let her go!!" Wolverine growled, popping his claws and glaring at Magneto menacingly.

Much to my affection, each member of our team - including Kurt and Brian, who'd finally decided to show up - had fallen into a battle-ready stance upon my captivity. Their loyalty made me wanna cry... or at least treat them to sodas after all was said and done.

"What will it be, _Enigma_, correct? You surrender first, and I will release your arms." Magneto maintained his poker face while he stared into my eyes in that same creepy way I mentioned before.

I swallowed hard, feeling the sharp points of my scythes pressing harder into my neck. "And what do you think is keeping my friends from attacking you right now? You can't possible ward off their blows _and_ keep me under your power."

"Think realistically, little girl. I won't need to keep you in my control. If your teammates decide to abandon common sense and attack me, all I will need to do is simply clench my fist, and your life will end."

"Some of them have the power to take you out immediately, quick enough that my life won't even be an issue."

"You're referring to Mr Summers, I presume? Naturally, that option wouldn't fit into his master plans of action, with his being Field Leader and all, now would it?"

"Nah. He's not half the strategist you make him out to be. Trust me; I played Risk with the guy," I joked, grunting slightly as I accidentally leaned into one of the knives.

As I applied more heat, Magneto applied more pressure to my arms. It was now that I was beginning to question the wisdom of my actions. The more I heated the energy in his helmet, the more pain he was in, the harder he pressed the knives to my throat. And, let's face it, he was a bit more powerful than I was. All it would take for him to remove my head would be a flick of his wrist. For me, I wasn't even sure if I could blow up his stupid hat. But I couldn't just give it up.

I closed my eyes tight as I focussed harder, and heard Magneto gasp in pain as the helmet began to pop and sizzle. The blades constricted and I felt them break skin. Without much more reasoning to go on, I finally gave up. Magneto lifted me into the air by my arms and threw me into the asphalt.

I hit the ground hard, and without any amount of invulnerability kicking in. The last thing I remember is hearing Cykes cry out, the distinct sound of his optic blast on full-power, and loud noises that sounded like buildings crashing to the ground, followed by deep-throated laughter that could only belong to...

***

Author's Note: I had a reeeely hard time writing THIS chapter... God, it was like pulling teeth. Ever since early chapter seven, I develouped some serious writer's block, and I actually had to MAKE myself sit down and write out a chapter-plot line. And once I actually started typing it down, after the first few sentences, I couldn't get myself to stop... but that's just me. Anyway, I hope this one fits well and... yeah... Please read and review :) (cuz I ain't got NO reviews so far and I gotta admit, I'm gettin' a little depressed)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Forgotten Past

SOMEWHERE ABOVE THE ATLANTIC. (HOURS LATER)

Sunday, 8:22 pm - The Blackbird Jet

If I thought I had headaches before, nothing could compare to the teeth-shattering agony that was pounding through my head right now. I grimaced, but held onto whatever dignity I had left by not complaining out loud to my team. That's what I have you guys for, remember?

Anyway, I could tell that we were now in the X-Jet, heading for the Institute, I assumed. But when I opened my eyes, my surroundings didn't look anything like the interiour of the Backbird. In fact, they looked like a dark medical facility, complete with Beast typing away on small computers with his back to me.

"G'mornin', sunshine," said a gruff, unexpected voice that just about rattled my teeth. I thought I was gonna pass out solely from the noise.

Logan stepped in front of me and into view.

"Where the heck are we?" I asked. Apparently I hadn't spoken in a while, judging by the hoarseness of my voice.

"The X-Jet's cargo hold. Hanky-boy set up his laptops in here to look after you till you woke up."

My ears were telling me that Logan was whispering, but my head was telling me he may as we be using a megaphone.

"What happened?" I asked.

Wolverine fell back into a sitting position beside the row of seats I was lying across. He rubbed his forehead, "Well, ah... After Magneto took you out-" I wasn't sure I liked it put that way. "-Summers tried ta fry 'im an' ended up gettin' served up, 'imself."

"Normally, it's cool. But I'm sorta out of it right now, so you're gonna have'ta speak English..."

"Magneto took his visor with his powers an' Cykes' eyes went nuts. Levelled half the 'scrapers."

Holy crap. I knew Scott's blasts packed a punch, but all those buildings... Personal note: be a bit more respectful to Cykes...

Logan continued, "Also, it turns out Mags had another army'n reserve. They came in from these freakish metal orbs an' gave us the fight of our lives. The 'Crawler took a beating, but it was he who really led the battle, what with Cyclops outta commission. We did the best we could, but in the end, we were lucky ta leave with our faces intact and our limbs still 'parta our anatomies. Cykes called a retreat after a while longer."

"But we won, right?"

"..."

I cleared my throat. "...Right?"

"...It just wasn't our day. We'll get 'im. You can be sure'a that."

I watched silently as Wolverine got to his feet and exited into the cockpit, leaving me with widened eyes and Beast coming at me with a heart monitor. I can't believe we actually gave up! Before I got 'taken out', everything was hunky-dory! And then, I close my eyes for a _few hours_, and suddenly the proud X-Men don't have the nerve to finish the fight! And I thought I was pissed _before_...

"How are you feeling?"

I jumped when I heard Hank over my thoughts. "I'm fine," I responded huffily. "I don't have to be stranded back here like a patient, I only got knocked out."

The Beast smiled sadly, "I understand, but-"

"How could they have just _given up?_ What would the Professor say? How do we plan on changing the world if we can't even handle one megalomaniac in a purple frickin' cape?"

Beast seemed surprised at my tone. Carefully, he applied intellect and reasoning to my rant - something even _I_ knew I wasn't capable of, "From what I heard over the communicators, and a few hours ago when we loaded up, you guys were incredibly outnumbered. Erik had Bobby and Brian pinned to the ground with braces, he'd already gotten rid of you, Scott was out of the picture without his visor, and Wolverine and Kitty just couldn't get close enough. It was up to Kurt and Piotr - but they just weren't enough, either. When Magneto summoned more of his Brotherhood, it became blantantly obvious who'd won the fight. And the X-Men accepted that."

Well, _I_ wouldn't've. I guess I can understand why they backed down, but it still irked me to know that Magneto had beaten us. I mean, weren't we trained to be the last ones standing?

I shook my head, "If anything, this means he's going down twice as hard next time."

I can promise that.

WESTCHESTER, NEW YORK. (THREE DAYS LATER)

Wednesday, 12:14 pm - The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children

I know I shouldn't be here. I know it's wrong. I realise that my life could be in jeopardy, and yet I choose to accept that...

But Logan's secret cooler is the only thing in this house that has any soda, and If I take one more sip of chocolate milk, I'm gonna throw up.

Reluctantly, I pulled a bottle of diet Pepsi from the mini 'fridge 'cause regular Pepsi is nasty, and escaped to my dorm-room. Or at least, that's what I had planned - because it's, like, common sense around here to have a plan before going ahead with anything that could get you in the doghouse with Wolverine. And even though he and I have a special relationship, as far as figurative father/daughter goes, I know how to handle myself, and suicide is never the answer.

I just so happened to know that Logan was in another scheduled meeting with Professor Xavier, and, against my better judgement, I decided to check it out for, like, the third time. ...But don't even give me that 'OMG' look, or whatever. He'd been acting strange lately, not to mention the last time he was talking to me in my room, he ran out with something on his mind. Call me nosy and disrespectful, but I had to know what it was.

So I silently crept down the hallways toward the Professor's study, where I knew I'd find the two of them. Call it intuition.

Or talk to the few dozen fellow students I'd asked the first time I felt the need to spy on them.

I took the stairway to the first storey and made a hard left, walking past the millions of other mutant kids that packed the school's walls and storage compartments and overflowed through the chimneys. After what seemed like days (but was probably only a minute or so), I tiptoed up to the Professor's office room and knelt beside the door, looking completely cool and natural to the few students striding past me to get to their next classes.

I tried listening in through the solid wood of the oak door, but could barely make out any words. I mentally cursed and became frustrated on the spot. It was then that I realised that they hadn't started talking yet, because once they did, I could hear them perfectly. Oops, heheh.

I exhaled deeply and tried to clear my mind just in case the Professor could pick up my thoughts, I couldn't do anything about my personal scent, however, so I hope Logan doesn't suspect anything. Looking through the vintage keyhole that never actually required a key, I thought I saw Professor Xavier at his desk (shocker) and Wolverine draped in one of the two chairs directly in front of it.

Bamf!

"Holy jeez-!" I half-whispered and fell back onto my butt in surprise.

"Guten tag, fraulein." Kurt smiled cluelessly at me once his smelly smoke had dissipated. "Vas going on?"

I rubbed my forehead in frustration. "I'm eavesdropping. Shh!" I held my finger to my lips to indicate silence.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Kurt raise an eyebrow, obviously unsure of my actions. Whatever. Nobody asked him to pop up and startle me half to death. I needed to know what was happening; what was so important that Logan had to call the Professor from the Danger Room to schedule a discussion with him immediately? I don't know what was going through his head, but all I'd done was skip the last few sessions of training; I'm not exactly up to snuff emotionally (and I'm not ashamed to admit it. To myself) and I just didn't feel ready to get back to the ol' grind. Not yet. Not until I got my head sorted out. Anyway, everyday since I'd spoken to Logan in my room, he'd been meeting with Professor Xavier to speak 'privately'. And, naturally, I'd felt the need to... _supervise..._ those meetings. And, lo and behold, they'd been about me every time. So this isn't really wrong if it's a meeting 'bout me, right?

"-I understand that you're concerned, Logan, but how could she possibly have anything to do with your former line of work?" this from Xavier.

Wolverine responded calmly, "I know it sounds crazy, Chuck, but so far, everything that kid's been tellin' me makes a helluva lotta sense. I recognise the pattern. She has no memory of her life before a coupla years ago, when she found 'erself near a small village in the Yukon. The _Yukon_, bub. Yer tellin' me that doesn't ring a few bells?"

I saw the Professor lean back a bit, steepling his fingers under his chin in thought. "I've never picked up anything from her thoughts... Although, I've also never entirely entered her mind before. I gave her my word the day she arrived that her thoughts would not be prodded by anyone. And she scarcely accepted that promise. Zak is a very careful and intuitive person... It wouldn't surprise me if something were to have happened in her past. I'm aware of her criminal record-"

Crap.

"-though I've failed to mention it in light of leaving the past in the past. But I can't manage to wrap my mind around the possibility of her being used by Weapon X."

Woah, hold the phone! Weapon X? As in, the secret-but-not-so-secret-organisation-founded-by-freaks-with-claw-fetishes, Weapon X? My jaw dropped at the mention of its name. I pressed my ear closer to the door, all the while still trying to see through the keyhole at the same time. Beside me, Kurt was just as astounded as I was. And for once, I didn't mind that someone else was hearing about my life. I'd probably need him later to verify what'd been said when I try to convince myself that I'd heard wrong.

The Professor continued, "There's that base in Canada that you told me about. You and General Fury think that there might be a secret operation down below that's taken over its previous resources. What was the primary fact that lead you start suspecting that could have anything to do with Zak? Or a government-issued mind-wipe?"

Mind-wipe? Holy crap, this was getting interesting. Nothing like the past two meetings...

"Well, would the fact that she's walkin' 'round with no childhood suffice as evidence?" Logan shot back in his special respectful-rudeness tone. "Listen, it all makes sense when ya look at it. Weapon X wiped my memories after they loaded me with Adamantium, who's ta say that they weren't tryin' somethin' on her and she happened to escape? In fact, who's ta say she was the only one? She told me 'bout all these nightmares she's been havin' since she was about thirteen, on the day she woke up wit'an empty head. I get 'em every now an' then, too. You _know_ that."

Logan sighed, clearly searching for the right words. "Everybody gets bad dreams every now and then, but sometimes, there's more to it than that. I'm thinkin' her dreams might not be nightmares at all... I think they could be mem'ries."

Umm... Can we back up a minute? No, really, just a second. I don't mean to bother you, but...

Is it really possible... that each of my most indescribable nightmares could actually be suppressed memories? Sounds like something out of a movie. But if it's a lead on my forgotten life, I've gotta ask questions.

Once I'd caught my breath, I rose from the floor and prepared to knock on the door, but was abruptly stopped by Kurt. And I mean, _seriously_ abruptly. As in, he completely jumped me, knocked us both backwards, and, by the time I realised what'd happened, we landed on grass in a plume of noxious smoke. He'd just 'ported us outside!

"The heck-?"

"Are you insane?" Kurt said. "If eiz'er of zem knew ve vere out z'ere, listening in, it could mean our tails!"

I pushed myself off the ground and pulled wet pieces of grass from my grey Xavier Institute sweatshirt. "Kurt, not all of us have tails; we're not all that lucky. And besides, this is the first speck of information about my life and who I was before I woke up on my own."

"Vhat are you talking about?"

I mentally smacked my forehead. I'd never told anybody about that part of my life except for Logan. Well, the Professor knew, but that's different; he knows everything. And another thing is, Kurt now knows about-

"And you committed felonies?" he added with bewilderment.

Before he could say anymore, I held up my hands in defeat, and said, "Okay, I realise that this is a bit confusing. Believe me, it's no picnic for me, neither. But, if there's anybody I trust on this God-forsaken planet, it's Professor Xavier, Logan, and you," I finished softly. "And if the former two already know even more than _I_ do about myself, I suppose it's never too early for you to join the club."

And so I went on to explain every little dang detail of what's gone on, what's going on, and God-knows what's to come. And even though it sounds like it must take a long time, the truth is, there's really not much to tell. I'd say that Kurt knew everything (or at least, everything _I_ know) by the time twelve minutes were up, if I owned a watch.

The Teleporter whistled lightly. "So you don't even know vhat your real name is?"

"Well, assuming Logan's right, and every nightmare I've ever had is actually a memory, then I'm pretty sure my given name starts with either an M, or an E-M."

"How do you figure?" he inquired.

"In one of my dreams, there was a boy. And he was calling out to me by 'Em'. It's strange, I feel like I should know who he is, or... who he _was_; he's so familiar. But I just can't pin a name to the face. It's driving me crazy. There has to be something I can do about my memory, someway to regain it. That's been done right?" I looked to Kurt for agreement, but he simply shrugged. Gee, thanks, Kurt. Real big help. "You know, like in all those cheesy horror films where the world's last hope is suddenly brainwashed and finds an ally who just 'happens' to be a brainsurgeon and helps him... remember..." I could tell I'd lost Kurt. He looked at me now with a contented, yet confused expression that said 'just stand here and nod and look like I understand what the hell she's talking about'.

I sighed in resignation.

_Let's see, SHIELD's found something unusual going on 'coincidentally' near the place I had my first memory, I'm slowly losing my mind, we just lost a majour battle for control over Genosha to a vengeful man with a grudge against all humankind, and now, on top of all that, it turns out I might've been some radical secret experiment from government agents-gone-nuts,_ I thought pleasantly.

Normally, I'm pretty impatient - and I admit that. But this was one thing that, despite my enthusiasm, I definitely _could_ wait to hear more about.

(Author's Note: HOLY CRUD! It was heck churnin' this chapter outta my brain. It's probably not very good, but what're ya gonna do, right? Please hold the tomatoes and let me know what you think! I need to know what I'm doin' here, and reviews are like Mountain Dew mixed with Monkeys (you can imagine THAT combo :D)


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